Spur Of The Moment
by DM-sama
Summary: A collection of 30 writing prompts, featuring F!Hawke and Fenris. Will be updated daily throughout all of December.
1. Chapter 1: Pity

****So, I decided that I was tired of my self-imposed exile (and writing in general) from Fanfiction. Now I am to go on a 30-day writing prompt challenge, inspired by one word given to me by my friend.********This is gonna be fun! :D****

_**~*Pity*~**_

Hawke feverously worked to warm up her hands. The small fire she had created did little to protect her bare arms from the bitter cold, but she remained as close as she could to it while out of range from the crackling embers. A puff of white mist obscured her vision as she released a hot breath of air.

"Merrill's must be worrying herself sick," she mumbled. "She's probably running around in the snow looking for us." Even as she said it, an image of the little blood mage crawling up and down the mountain, her big puppy eyes opened wide in a panic as she cried out for her missing party members, weighed down on her mind.

"I highly doubt Isabela, or anyone, would let her wander off far," Fenris' gloomy voice echoed from a dark corner in the cave. He shifted uncomfortably on his stone slab. "Though I would suggest being more concerned about yourself right now, rather then the blood mage's potential heart attack."

_Smart ass_, Hawke gritted her teeth. She was always told that the Maker had a sick sense of humor, but this seemed ridiculous. Tucking away a flyaway strand of hair, Hawke cleared away some snow on a patch of ground and noiselessly sat down. She could see Fenris' eyes glowering in the darkness.

"It's not like it's going to hurl fireballs," she said sullenly, glancing up at him. Silence answered her. "You're not a block of ice, you know that right?"

"I'm well aware."

"Then come on over and warm up," she grounded out. "You're no good to yourself with frostbite."

She heard Fenris shifting again, but he didn't move an inch towards her magical fire. _Stubborn headed fool_, she glowered. Her frustrations were quickly mounting, and the air grew icier. Ten minutes slowly passed by. Hawke sighed in exasperation. "_Please_ come over here, Fenris. You'll freeze to death before morning even comes at this rate."

It seemed like an eternity passed before she heard a shuffling noise, and Fenris entering the firelight. Small icicles clung to his hair as he crouched down next to her small fire. Awkwardness suddenly thickened the air. Hawke cleared her throat.

"So…once the sun rises…we should be able to thaw our way out," she started thickly, not at all accustomed to long periods of silence. Alone time with Fenris when he was in one of his _brood moods_ was agonizing.

"It's a plan," he muttered. Hawke bit her lip.

"It'll be warmer…when the suns up and all…" she tried again. "I'll just be able to…blow it up…" she gestured at the collapsed mouth of the cave.

"I know."

Her stomach began to growl ferociously, causing her cheeks to adapt a sickly green color. _Isabela and her damn diet plan_… Nausea gripped at her, causing her vision to swim. "I've never been so cold before," she talked, fighting to keep her dizziness at bay. "It's never snowed much in Lothering. Dad always kept us inside when it did." She could feel Fenris' annoyance rising.

"I've been through worse."

_Aha._

"Like when?"

Fenris suddenly paused.

"That's not your concern," he bit out. Hawke scoffed, her breath turning into white mist.

"We're trapped in a _cave_," she snapped. "Now isn't the time to be antisocial." An uncomfortable silence befell the both of them, only interrupted by the howling wind outside. Hawke's stomach growled viciously again. Fenris sighed

"Danarius and I were traveling through The High Reaches during a violent blizzard one night," he said. "In order to see where we were going Danarius lit up my tattoos. It wasn't pleasant." He poked at the embers of the fire. Oh, what she wouldn't give for a jug of beer right then.

"A blizzard? At night?" she thought out loud, before cracking a small grin. "Jeez, what a moron. You'd think he'd—" Hawke was violently cut off from a blast of power that knocked the wind out of her. She gaped in amazement. Fenris bowed his head, ashamed.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Reflex…"

_Ah_.

Nervously raking her hand through her mussed up hair, Hawke fixed her eyes on the fire. "That was my fault... I'm sorry." As soon as the ill-thought-out words left her lips she immediately began cursing her stupidity. Fenris recoiled.

"I'm not interested in your pity," he snapped. Her earlier bitterness was quick to resurge, as was her nausea, when she glared spitefully at the foul-tempered elf. _Preaching to the choir._

"It's _not _pity, it's sympathy."

"There's no difference of the two."

"Yes, there _is_," Hawke persisted. "Sympathy is when you understand someone's pain; pity is when you look down on them for it." His face was contorted in a deep scowl. The circumstances of their condition were obviously starting to affect him.

"And I presume you _understand _my pain, then." It wasn't a question. "You would hardly even know where to begin." Without warning Hawke jumped to her feet, anger flushing her cheeks a bright, furious red.

"Oh, sure, poor little Fenris is the only one that can walk around acting like he's the _only _person in the world who has scars," she shouted, heart hammering.

He began to start growling violently. "Few can say they lost as much as I have."

"Merrill lost her _home_, Varric lost his _brother_, I…" She furiously cut herself off. The old wound on the bridge of her nose was stinging from Fenris' dark gaze. Shame welled up in her chest. Hawke crossed her arms and glowered angrily at a speck on the cave floor.

Time passed by agonizingly slow.

"I'm sorry," Hawke mumbled.

"...it was unnecessary of me…"

Hawke nodded, her pride refusing for her to take another action. Her chest began hurting.

Eventually, Hawke sat back down on the floor, her feet wickedly sore. She suddenly felt exhausted, and found it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. Her companion didn't look that much better off, as his head constantly began to nod off.

"I know what it's like to be scarred by magic," Hawke bit out finally, watching the breathy mist float away. A few seconds passed before she heard him grunt in reply, and took it as a Fenris-y "yes". "And... I won't ever look down on you, you know."

Another grunt. Hawke's tongue poked out between her lips.

"Well, yelling at you was fun, at least," she tried one last time. This time she got a little chuckle. She, too, cracked a small smile. "Hmm, I should do it more often…when we get out of here and all…"

"…yeah."

**~*O*~**

**Ah well, expect the next prompt tomorrow, my fellow Dragonlings.**

**Au revoir~!**

**~DM-sama **


	2. Chapter 2: Shame

_**~*Shame*~**_

Moonlight poured through the open window as Hawke struggled to zip up her pants.

Tousled hair, a bruised lip, and a frantic, wild look to her face; she was the poster girl of a disorganized mess. Not that she thought very much on her disheveled appearance at that moment. She was only consumed with the desire to bail out of the foreign house as fast as she could.

It wasn't as if Josh wasn't a fantastic lover (or perhaps it was Dave…?), but she wasn't interested in lingering when he awoke and felt like getting all lovey-dovey. It was a habit she had developed as a kid. Whenever something held her up in a place where the fun had passed, she quickly became annoyed.

And right now, that fun was currently located at the Hanged Man.

Her foot already half out the door, Hawke quickly slid on her gloves before jumping out onto the cold streets of Hightown. She didn't feel to guilty as she left, too. After all, she could personally name four weepy girls that had the same certain experiences with young David (his wife not included), that would vouch their approval. Or was it Samuel? _Whatever, _she dismissed the thought as she scurried through Lowtown.

The bar was virtually empty that night. Isabela and Merrill she spotted immediately. Hawke was quick to fix up her hair before Isabela cried out and rose up towards her. Her cheeks were flushed a bright red.

"Walked out before happy hour even started," she cajoled. "I knew you had it in you. I'm so proud!" _Drunk_,_ you mean,_ Hawke thought.

"There's only so much you can do to please a man," she said, shrugging. Isabela laughed.

"Wise words," she said. Merrill was just behind her, looking up at her with those big, big eyes. "Good thing you showed up though. Now tonight won't be a complete waste of time." Smirking, Hawke walked over to their previous table and scooped up a jug of beer. She noticed Varric and Fenris chatting it up at the bar. She looked away as she swished down the drink. _Almost a full house._

"So what's that now, seven this month?" Isabela murmured out loud as she shuffled the playing cards. "Three of them married, too?"

"Four," Hawke mumbled, reaching for her hand. _Two sixes and one king_, she thought. "Don't forget Harold."

"Oh, I liked him!" Merrill said her cheeks tinted a bright pink. "He was _so _funny." She giggled and hiccupped.

"You get really funny when you're drunk, too, you know?" Isabela noted.

"How much did she have tonight?"

"About three bottles worth. I think I had…what, six?"

"I won't envy either of you in the morning."

They all laughed before returning to the game at hand.

As the night wore on the nightlife of Kirkwall slowly began to show up. Pretty soon the three party members had to shout to keep even be heard, if at all. The usual happened. A fight broke out. Poet-boy made his appearance. Isabela flirted back. Hawke felt slightly buzzed.

Finally, on her seventh glass, Merrill finally passed out.

"Oh no, poor thing," the pirate girl cooed, all but forgetting the man on her lap. She turned to Hawke. "So can you tell me _now_ what it was like?"

"Oh, it was very painful. The blade was soaked in poison, so it took three weeks to heal up properly—"

"I meant last night."

"We didn't fight Bandits last night? I could've sworn…"

"Hawke," Isabela pushed the guy off of her lap as she leaned in. "C'mon, was there any sparks, or anything? I need details." Hawke didn't look up from her hand, laying two fours on the table top.

"We had sex, what else can I say?" Isabela scoffed and rolled her eyes, returning her attention back to the drunken man lying on the ground. Game quickly forgotten, Hawke rose and walked up towards the bar. Her vision was swimming from side to side, but she knew she wasn't quite yet drunk enough.

"Oi, another spot, over 'ere," she called out to the barman. He nodded before starting up on her order. Fenris and Varric were to her right, both staring at her. Varric looked especially bold. None of them spoke for a few seconds.

"_Well, _how was it?" he asked cheekily. Hawke puffed her cheeks, not looking at either of them.

"Maker's Breath, when did you all get so nosy?" she sighed in exasperation. Varric laughed, patting her arm.

"Trust me, Hawke, that information is yours to keep." Then he hopped off of his stool and walked off towards the fight zone, leaving her alone with the nodding off elf. She was glad when her order arrived.

"So…" Fenris started as she gulped down her drink. "How was it then?" Hawke's face flushed red as she sent him a deadly glare. He chuckled mirthfully as he drank a sip of his own mug as well. "With that scowl on your face, I can only assume it was awful."

"Hey, Christopher is an _amazing _lover," she snapped. _Wait, was that his name_? She shoved away the thoughts, blearily focusing on the swaying elf next to her. She couldn't place her finger on it, but he looked uncharacteristically smug as he ordered another drink.

"As was Harold, Frank, John, and…Willard, was it?" he said, eyes glittering. "All the exact same thing…_amazing_." Hawke squinted at him. _Don't provoke him,_ she growled,_ it's what he wants_.

"I have been using that word to death, haven't I?" she digressed. She made a point to consider it. "Perhaps I should say _fantastical_ instead?"

Neither of them spoke, the fight raging on behind them dominating any other sound that might have been heard. Fenris' grin became lopsided.

"You know what _I _think," he said after a few minutes. His words slurred together, doing well to convince Hawke of exactly how many drinks he's had. "_I _think that you were so affected by my _ah-mazing_ love-making skills, you're doing _evver-ything _you can…to fill in the void _I _had created…"

Hawke gaped, blood quickly rushing to her cheeks. _That little punk!_

Then she shoved him.

He thumped onto the ground.

"I won't envy you either," she mumbled when he didn't get back up. Then she took the drink he ordered, and forcefully chugged it down.

**~*O*~**

**Pity, and then shame. Such negative words, Alexis! =/**

**Well, I did place the second category of this story as **_**Humor**_**, what was I to do? ^^ Expect the next update tomorrow~**

**~DM-sama**


	3. Chapter 3: Dirt

_**~*Dirt*~**_

"What about those things that shemlens eat whenever they can't sleep?" Merrill's voice echoed from the other room. "What are those for?"

"Oh, those are pills," Hawke called out, scratching up some dried up dirt on the table. It clung under her fingernail. "There's stuff inside of 'em to help slow down the brain. Helps it relax." The tiny elf repapered behind the wall with two glasses of water in her hands. She sat down on the other side of the dirty table.

"That's fascinating," she said, handing the drink to Hawke. "Y'know, shemlens are much better at herbs and medicine than I'd ever presumed. The Dalish think the only things they can do is to destroy nature, never create something from it." Hawke took a deep swig before answering. A drop trickled down her chin.

"Trust me, I'd rather cut down a tree than mix up smelly herbs all day." Hawke wiped her mouth. "It would be a disaster to my hair."

"Oh, you don't mean that," Merrill said, her glassy, deep eyes reminiscent of a lamb.

"You don't understand; while my hair may look silky and dreamlike now, in the morning it's like waking up from a nightmare."

"That's not what I meant."

"You sure? Pretty sure it was." She then pointedly gulped down the rest of her water, and held out the empty glass. Merrill rolled her eyes.

"Alright, let's change the subject then," she said. _So complaisant_. Hawke quirked her lips in delight. _If only more men were like her, it'd make my job easier_. "What's attending service at the Chantry like?"

"Wouldn't know." Hawke shrugged. "I'm not much of a churchgoer."

"I thought it was mandatory for shemlens to go on each holy day," she said, eyes wide. "The elders told us stories that those of shems who didn't were to be executed in the most foul and degrading of ways." The mage laughed.

"A lot of people want my head on a pike," she admitted, looking rather proud as she said it, "but not going to the Chantry every week isn't in the top five." The elf pouted.

"How about crafting, then? I've always wondered how you shemlens managed to mold metal so wondrously."

"_Humans_," Hawke corrected, growing slightly annoyed with the term. Merrill blushed. Hawke instantly relaxed again. "It has something to do with smelting gemstones and molding it, with a hammer. Same with a sword."

"We only ever use wood from trees. No one in my clan has ever bent diamonds to their own will like that." Her eyes glittered dreamily, as though the very idea was godlike. Hawke scoffed.

"If you say it like that, you can make bathing a dragon sound enchanting," she joked. "You'd make a great politician, you know?"

Merrill wouldn't take the bait.

"You don't like rings? I thought all female shemlens liked shiny stuff." Hawke grimaced.

"They're not all that special, dear. Jewelry is just something merchants sell to empty some poor woman's purse." Hawke remembered that flawless ruby ring that Isabela begged her to buy while traveling trough Hightown last week. Hawke had scoffed and dragged the pirate away by the ear.

"But don't they mean something special to your people?" she asked.

"Of course they _mean _something," Hawke laughed. "You give them to people that you care about as a gift." She gestured at the beautiful Dalish ring on Merrill's right ring finger. Merrill smiled affectionately, but once again she didn't take her bait.

"I meant more along the diamonds rings." Hawke began to sip some of Merrill's forgotten water." Don't the males give them to a female when they want to mate?" She choked. _Oh for the love of…_

"_Mate_ isn't the word I would use," Hawke coughed out. "It's just a token of affection from a man to a woman."

"I thought it meant that the male desired to spend the rest of his life with the girl." Merrill began giggling inanely. "It's so romantic. Elves just take on a mate according to season."

"That's not much different from regular marriage," Hawke mumbled. Merrill began staring at her again with those big, beautiful eyes. Hawke quickly became uncomfortable with her dreamy gaze. "What?"

"I was just wondering about Fenris," she admitted. Hawke choked on the water again. "Do you think he knows about that kind of stuff?" Her jaw nearly fell to the floor.

"Are you saying you want him to…?"

"No, no," she answered hastily. "I just wanted to know if he _knew _about it…being another elf and all." Hawke began scowling, a reaction commonly associated with thoughts of the elf. Silence surrounded them both. Merrill fidgeted with her pinkies, while Hawke scowled blankly at nothing.

"Isn't your cake done yet?" Hawke mumbled. This time her distraction worked. Merrill immediately squeaked and leaped up to her feet, scurrying off to the other room.

"No, no, no, please don't burn, don't burn, don't burn, don't burn…" Incoherent babble bounced around the household. A crash or two sounded before she finally returned, a clunky chocolate cake held in her teeny hands. She looked proud of herself. "Saved it just in time."

"Excellent," said Hawke, rubbing her hands together. As this was Merrill's first ever cake, the blood mage thought it appropriate for her to invite the Champion of Kirkwall down to her tiny home to take the first bite. Hawke couldn't ever refuse free cake.

"I hope you like it," Merrill said, nervously slicing the cake. "I invented the recipe myself. Put it together all last week." The slice she passed over was crumbly, but Hawke graciously accepted it. Since there was a lack of plates, she took it gingerly into her hands.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she consoled, before taking a big chomp out of it. At first she couldn't taste anything, but slowly, ever so slowly, the taste creeped onto her tongue. Hawke froze in mid-chew.

"Well, how is it?"

"I, uh…what did you use to make this again?"

"Not much; some chocolate, elfroot, a few spices…I also scooped up some of the dirt outside," Merrill said, a piece of cake cradled in her palm. "It's what most of our own foods are made from. We haven't many sweets, though."

"Oh…I see…" Hawke screwed up her face as she took another bite. "…excellent…"

**~*O*~**

**Such negative words, for the love of Avo! Alexis, you're killing me.**

**I figured Merrill could use a little bit of spotlight for the third chapter; she's probably one of my favorite characters. It may have to do with just returning home from The Muppets…I feel all warm and fuzzy inside~ **

**You're all getting i****mpaitent, I can sense it! ****Ah, we'll make up for lost Fenris-y time in the next chappie tomorrow, you wait and see~**

**~DM-sama**


	4. Chapter 4: Imagination

_**~*Imagination*~**_

The air was muggy and hard to breathe that night. Despite being outside in the open air, Hawke felt as if though she was in a crowded room, with hundreds of other people sucking up her oxygen.

"Isn't it supposed to get colder during winter?" she mumbled, fanning herself tiredly, as she looked over to her companion. "Unless I missed some sort of memo." Fenris gazed back to her, looking as uncomfortably hot as she did.

"It's something with being in a city, it takes too long to cool down," he decided. "It's already packed with snow in the mountains though." Hawke's smile grew dreamy as her head clouded with thoughts of snow and winter and _cold_. She's always hated hot weather, which was a necessary evil in good ol' Kirkwall. Thoughts of a warm winter's past suddenly depressed her.

"Why can't it be cold _now_?" she grumbled, kicking at the rubble in the street.

"You can't decide when it's time to snow, Hawke."

"Yes I can! See, watch!" Hawke focused her energy and with a great sigh, a breath of ice flew past her lips. Fenris, who was a few steps in front of her, shivered when it swirled around him. Frost formed on his arms. He turned heel and glared at her.

"I'd rather we finish this patrol and return home as quickly as possible," he grumbled, and walked off without another word. Hawke's sour mood quickly resurfaced. Neither spoke. Silence lulled her into a quirky state of mind, and her thoughts returned to the idea of snow.

"Kirkwall would look beautiful in winter too," she thought out loud. "I can see it; sparkling snow glittering down the streets, twinkling, festive lights, and everyone dressed in mittens and scarves…" She could here Fenris sigh as he turned back to her.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just using my imagination."

"Your what?"

"_I—ma—gin—a—tion_," Hawke said cheekily. "You know, the ability to visualize?"

"I know what it is."

"I find it good to exercise once in a while."

"Who would have much need for it, other than children?" he sneered, staring pointedly at her. Hawke shrugged.

"Keeps things less boring. What, you don't ever daydream? Of things other than me, of course."

"Daydreaming and using imagination are two different things," Fenris said. _Wait, I've heard this before_, Hawke thought. "Until recently the only thing I dreamt about was of strangling Danarius…and you, of course."

"Aha, I knew that you were having dreams of me," Hawke laughed loudly.

"Hawke."

"A little bit rough, but I guess—"

"_Hawke_."

Hawke took the message, and closed her mouth, with difficulty, mind you. It was hard to get her to stop talking. Even then she didn't quite give up. A few minutes later Hawke trotted her way up to the Tevinter warrior, and loped her arm around his shoulders.

"Listen, _everyone _has an imagination," she said, poking his chest plate. "Some just don't use it as much. However, active imagination means active creativity. You know?" He rolled his eyes, and gingerly removed her hand, as if he was reluctant to touch her.

"Not much time has been spared for exercising my mind like such," he explained. "You know, with killing slavers and mages and all that."

"Haven't you been reading?"

"Yes."

"Well, reading requires a lot of imagination, else it's just words."

He looked quite ready to drop the subject all together, but the cogs in Hawke's head were whirling fast. Suddenly she jogged up ahead and stopped at the foot of a stairway twenty feet away. When Fenris reached her, he slowed and stared at her in exasperation. Imitating any average guard in front of a palace, she held out her staff and stood rigidly still.

"Hawke, what are you doing?" She glanced at him when he spoke, suddenly looking very hostile.

"And what business might you have with the King of Congelación?" she boomed in a deep voice. His eyes narrowed.

"Now isn't the time for your games, Hawke," he growled. Hawke made no acknowledgement of his comment, instead sneering at him like he had insulted her.

"From the insignia on your chest plate, I see you are the Prince of Sangriento." Now Fenris quickly became confused, looking down to his chest with a furrowed brow. Without warning Hawke jerked the staff just under his chin with a curled upper lip. "Just know that at the first sign of betrayal, your blood shall color my blade." She stepped to the side, and held her hand out. "Proceed."

Fenris warily stepped past her, her eyes never leaving him. He rolled his eyes and looked back up the stairs. When he reached the top, he paused.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Hawke announced proudly. She sat upon a regal throne made out of pure, solid ice, wearing a kingly crown upon her brow. Her grin was almost insufferable as she stared down on him. She stood. "My dear Prince, I was wondering when you might arrive."

"This is getting ridiculous," he barked, temper rising.

"Ridiculous indeed," she murmured, and began pacing. "Let us talk of _ridiculous_, shall we?" Hawke's face suddenly became deadly serious. "You come into _my _country, battle against _my _men, and here you stand in _my _castle with such an arrogance I have never seen before!"

"_What_?" Fenris snapped.

"Do not lie to me!" she spat. "You come here, seeking my daughters hand in marriage." Hawke looked enraged, her voice rising to a shout. "And yet you expect a warm welcome meanwhile your armies rip my kingdom to shreds."

"I never did such a thing!" he shouted back. Seeming to have enough of it Hawke reached up and smashed her crown onto the ground. Suddenly a powerful amount of energy blasted forth from her, knocking him back a few steps. In a swirling cloud of mist, piece by piece a suit made from frost covered every part of her other than her eyes, which were burning with fire.

"Only one thing could end this blood feud between us," she said gravely, eyes glazed. She raised her arms. "Fight me, you demon!"

He barely had time to raise his sword in defense before she raised her mighty fist and crashed it atop his head. Her armor instantly cracked, but just as quickly it repaired itself, and she was on him again. Over and over she struck with unmitigated ferocity, and Fenris' sword did little to help him.

"Foolish boy!" she cried, her voice muffled. "Only a sword soaked in the purest of fire could ever have the ability to melt my body armor!" She laughed maniacally, and attacked twice as hard to make her point. Absolute fury arose in his chest.

"_I refuse to put up with this—" _His enraged comment was cut off when she took a full forced punch to his jaw. His lip split open.

"Foolish of fools!" she cried.

He had it.

"You want to play games? Fine!" he hollered. "In my palm I wield the Blade of Fire! _Hoja de Fuego_! Created for my hand alone! Just…_die_!"

Almost instantly, Hawke's expression became that of a cornered, terrified mouse as her armor seemed to suddenly melt before her. A few minutes later, Fenris stood above a defeated King as she lay in defeat by his feet. Her hand draped in front of her eyes as she seemed to struggle breathing.

"You are defeated," he bit out, and Hawke remained motionless. Fenris rolled his eyes, and sheathed his sword. _Enough playtime_, he thought to himself, and turned around. He jumped in shock.

"My love!" Hawke cried out, standing just a few feet in front of him. Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Before he could react she swung herself into his arms. "You truly are my soul mate, to have risked so much…for _me_." She began to quietly sobbed, as if his act had touched her own soul. He remained motionless. She stared pointedly at him with her watery gaze. He sighed.

"I only did what was needed of me," he said, eyebrow twitching rhythmically. Satisfied, Hawke smiled, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I can only wish that we may live happily together now, our love to shine through the ages of time," she cried out. At this, Fenris' offered a tiny, sarcastic grin at her antics.

"I'm not sure I would make it that far," he murmured. Hawke began to tear up again.

"_What _is going on here?"

The unfamiliar voice caused Fenris to drop Hawke in abstract surprise. She fell to the ground with an audible "_oof_" as he swiveled around to meet the eyes of the Captain of the Guard.

"We were just…" He came up short of an answer. Truth be told, he wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. Hawke glared at him in annoyance when he didn't help her up. Aveline rubbed her temple in exasperation.

"Oh, I knew I should've sent Donnic out instead," she sighed. "You guys can head on home now; the next patrol is coming along. Go get some rest…you need it," she added, eyeing the wetness of Hawke's clothes, before walking back to the Keep. It was long after the sound of her footsteps had vanished before either of them spoke.

"See?" Hawke said, elbowing a silent Fenris. "Wasn't that _fun_?"

"…what was fun?" Hawke narrowed her eyes at him, wondering whether he was joking or not. She could never tell.

"You know, using your _imagination_," she exclaimed, using exaggerated hand gestures to make her point clear. It didn't do much, other than make Fenris look at her like she was an idiot.

"That was _not_ using the imagination," he scoffed, and began walking away.

"Yes it was!"

"No."

"_Yes_!"

"Hawke."

"Fine! Tell me then, what was it? What just happened?"

"That, Hawke, was a prime example of just how crazy you really are."

**~*O*~**

**_Imagination_... Now **_**that **_**is a word. Great job Alexis. And thanks to all those who left a review and added my story to your list! It helps me spin these out with a lot more enthusiasm!**

**See you loves tomorrow~**

**~DM-sama**


	5. Chapter 5: Insight

_**~*Insight*~**_

_Diary,_

_Good evening. I am currently writing in this booklet on per request of my good friend, Varric, who kindly suggested that I should write down my thoughts. Something about legacy. He said to write like I would to a friend. Um…hello._

_Nothing worth writing down has happened today. A few stale-mouthed merchants, who were in dire need of a good spanking, but that was all. Merrill was cute when we neared the Marabi compound, at least. She begged me to take her inside and see them, but the trainers had been very vocal in their disagreement. Poor girl, she nearly cried._

_Fenris was as grumpy as ever. Honestly, I wonder if it hurts to screw his face up like that for so long. It works whenever we run into the occasional wannabe pickpocket, but other times it makes me wonder what he's thinking. He only gets that look with me. Hmm… I think it has something to do with chains. And me. But not in the dirty way. The strangling way. _

_By the Maker I'm terrible at this… No one would be able to read this anyway. I've written it in an indecipherable tongue, called severely sloppy hand writing. Oooooh. What's that dwarf playing at?_

_How about Isabela? She tried inviting me over for some 'happy time' with her new man-cub the other day. It's a good things I'm friends with her, else I'd be running back to Ferelden at such implications. He's not even that pretty. Well, he might be pretty. I guess I just have a better eye for elves. I remember when I first saw Fenris, I nearly fell over in shock. He may be a pain in the neck, but by the Maker does he have such pretty eyes. Eyes that are currently glaring in the back of my neck. Ha, nice._

_Honestly, it's taking all of my strength to not turn around and strangle him. He's been edgier than usual the last few months. Is it proper to say a rock is being rockier than usual? I guess so. I just wish I could understand what's going through his head. It might just be… "I hate Hawke. I hate slavers. I hate mages. I'm a huge prick. HHFJIEDVALLKFRN! Brooooood." A broken record, I'm telling you._

_Merrill's giving me funny looks over her coffee cup. I worry about her and caffeine, but I couldn't say no when she asked. Maybe I'll get her a pastry later as well, let her know what it's actually supposed to taste like. Oh, poor thing._

_Ah, there's Anders now. I guess he's founded the bandits. Well, guess I should…wrap this up? Ugh, I need to ask Varric how to do this._

_~Hawke_

**~*O*~**

**Shame on me for writing such a short chapter after the last one. In my defense, I didn't feel much with this word, but I managed to spin out as much as I could on such short notice. I like the idea of Hawke keeping a diary though. I'll hang onto that. See you tomorrow~**

**~DM-sama**


	6. Chapter 6: Philosopher

_**~*Philosopher*~**_

_I think I might just be the prettiest one here,_ Hawke thought, eyeing the acne covered boy whom was jumping around wildly as he tried to reach a book. Heaving a big sigh Hawke began flipping through the pages of her book, which rested comfortably in her lap.

Though the day was bright and sunny and perfect for frolicking, there was nothing to be done for Hawke and her team. There were no bandits to slay, no dragons to fight, even Fenris and Anders didn't cause a fuss. Never would she have thought Kirkwall would run out of jobs to throw at her. With nothing to do, and no one to visit, and since the Hanged Man didn't serve this early in the day, she decided to browse the town, and ended up in the renowned Kirkwallian library. She had nicknamed it 'Intellectual Dork Land'.

Not that she didn't love books. The people here were just so snobby. Whenever she started to read a book that didn't have pictures in it, someone would come out of nowhere and start prodding, asking her opinion. Once she finally yielded, they would vehemently debate with her about it down to the last tack. No kidding, it's happened three times by now. She would then politely shove the books into their arms and walk away.

Eventually she ferreted out a book of fairy tales, and when nobody showed up, she held onto it like a lifeline. Finding a small, quiet corner, she propped herself up, and lost herself in the book.

Hours past without incident.

Hawke quickly grew bored again.

_Damn, I think I've forgotten how to relax_, she thought to herself. Shutting the colorful, purple book, Hawke leaned all the way back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. Her mind was a complete blank. _What does this need? What would make this more interesting? _A smirk curled her lips. _Who do I know that could make even the library fun? Hmm…_

"Fenris!"

"What?"

Hawke snapped her head up, and almost lost her balance from shock. There he was, that blasted elf looking down at her with those _eyes _of his. A couple of books were cradled in his arms. He looked at her reproachfully.

"I knew that I had a stalker!" Hawke cried out. Before Fenris could get too angry with her statement, she beckoned him forth, gesturing at the seat opposite of her. "C'mon, c'mon, sit down. I need something to talk to."

"Have you tried the voices in your head?"

"Oh ho ho, you're so clever." She pointed to the chair. "Sit."

He rolled his eyes, but otherwise did as she requested. When he sat, Hawke curiously glanced at the heavy books he plopped onto the table. They were huge.

"What'cha got there?" she asked cutely, plunking her head between her hands. The books were rather large, and the titles were upside down, so she couldn't read it.

"A few books Aveline recommended to me," he said, taking the largest and flipping it open to the middle. "It's a manuscript about the evolution of the Qunari—" Hawke held up her hand, silencing him.

"Fenris," she started. "That is dull. And as your reading mentor, I cannot allow this act to continue forth."

"You're not my—"

"Here, try this on for size," Hawke said, sliding her fairy tale book over to him. "Much more entertaining." He reached over and picked it up. Almost instantly, his eyes were colored with disdain.

"There's a unicorn on the cover," he said.

She scoffed.

"Of course, that's because it's _interesting_," she exclaimed. "It's a picture book of fairy tales. This is _integral _in your reading curriculum."

"And why would this be?" he asked, obviously humoring her.

"Because, they have a lesson that needs to be learnt to all those who read," she explained, recalling the words her father had once spoken, long ago. "All tales like this do; the moral of the story, see?"

Without waiting for a word from him, she pushed the book towards her and opened to her favorite chapter. "Watch; the black bear is traveling through the forest, having lost his way to get back home. He searches and searches, but can't find the right path. A wise wild owl comes and tells him cryptic riddles on how to find his way again. The bear becomes frustrated, not being a very clever bear, and leaves. In the end, though, he became so confused by the forestry, and he never got back home."

He curiously looked down to the picture, which detailed a lined artwork of the owl communicating with the bear. She loved this story. Fenris looked up at her. "What's this supposed to prove?" Hawke rolled her eyes.

"The bear"—she pointed to the animal on the picture—"represents humankind and how they've strayed away from what protects them, which symbolizes the Maker. The owl—"she moved her finger—"represents those who are wise and try to help the strayed and lost. He is unable to tell him outright, as he doesn't know of the bear's intentions. In the end, we as people become so confused with the ways of the world, which we presume as natural, that we have no idea where to go next."

Then she closed the book shut, smugness radiating from her person. Fenris kept his eyes on her, oddly intent, and when she finished her speech, he slowly blinked. She pushed the book towards him.

"I want you to read this," she explained, "and then I want you to tell me everything you can about each story's nature."

He gingerly took the book and held it to his eyes. A few seconds passed before he slid the book back over to her, and then stood to leave.

"I appreciate it," said he. "But keep your fantasies for yourself, if you please."

And then he left, leaving an aggravated Hawke in his wake.

"You'll do well to listen to your master!" she cried out after him. He ignored her. "Only ill will can come from such disrespect!"

He left.

Hawke sat back down. _Phooey._

**~*O*~**

**I can't imagine our little elf to be to open to the idea of fantasy novel. It's up to Hawke to properly enlighten him! **

**Stay tuned~!**

**~DM-sama**


	7. Chapter 7: Flower

_**~*Flower*~**_

"Oh, it sure is a beautiful day," Isabela sighed dramatically. "The sun is shining…the birds are chirping…and the strawberries are ripe for the picking." _Sweet, delicious strawberries_, she thought to herself, eyeing a perfectly tasty treat walking down the street. Isabela turned and glared daggers at the lighted face of one Hawke as she browsed through the store. "Strawberries that can't see through these tinted glass windows."

"Maybe you should be picking snapdragons instead," Hawke offered, plucking at the said flower. She looked at it for a few seconds, before shaking her head and placing it back. She moved over to the fire lilies. Isabela groaned, and began tugging on her friend's arms.

"C'mon, it's not healthy to stay locked up all day," she protested. Hawke remained motionless, even dragging the pirate along when she moved to the next asile. _How dare she be so strong yet lithe! _She mentally cried. She was gently shaken off.

"Relax, I'm almost done," she murmured. She knelt down to sniff at a pretty pair of roses, and began crinkling her nose. "Don't you ever feel bad for the rose?"

"Why would I care about a rose?" Isabela scoffed. Hawke began frowning, probably wondering why she should care either.

"I mean…it's forever branded as the flower of love," she explained. "What if it wants to be a symbol of purity, or motherhood? Why does it have to be an erogenous symbol?" Isabela shot her an odd look. _Why did I agree to come with her here? _she thought morosely. _Didn't she say there was free beer? I swear she did…_ Hawke still didn't look like she was leaving anytime soon, so Isabela finally gave up and took a seat near the entrance.

Enough time had passed to the point that Isabela began curiously eyeing the young service clerk, wondering just how much longer Hawke would take. _Maybe just a quickie_… Her tongue curled over her upper lip.

"Okay, I'm done!" Hawke shouted, running towards the front of the store. Within her hands were cradled three beautiful white carnations, which she gently handed to the clerk. A few seconds, and one silver coin, later, both party members walked back out into the street. Isabela threw a quick wink over her shoulder to the boy, before they were lost in the crowd.

"So, now that _that's _over with," Isabela rubbed her hands together, hatefully eyeing at the white flowers. "Let's head over to the Hanged Man. I know this great trick to get three men drunk at the same time—" She was cut off when Hawke raised a hand, asking for silence.

"I'm not done yet," she said. Then she gestured at the flowers. "What, you think I bought these on a whim?" Isabela rolled her eyes, and sagged her shoulders in despair.

"Oh _c'mon_, what could be more important than drunken men?" She gripped at Hawke's shoulders. "And I had such high hopes for you…" Ah, she still remembered the night Hawke came to her after the girl's first dine-and-ditch. Good times. Hawke shrugged off her hands, her face bearing a wide smile.

"I have plans for the day, and I'm not canceling them," she said firmly. She gently poked Isabela's nose. "You don't _have_ to come along you know." Isabela let out a guttural groan.

"Well, when you say _that_ I have to come," she complained. Suddenly a wicked glint entered her eyes. "How do I know you're not going somewhere fun and just leaving me behind with these slumps?" Hawke rolled her eyes, but otherwise didn't protest. Both of the women began to walk down the road, blending in with the crowd.

Hawke made a few more stops along the way, buying a small, crystal vase, and some wine. Isabela began having thoughts of some sort of party. Suddenly, in a flash of enlightenment, she realized what Hawke was doing.

"You're going to meet a boy," she squealed. Another thought struck her. "You're going to meet _Fenris_, aren't you?" Blinking rapidly Hawke stopped dead in her tracks and stared up at her. A deep blushed colored her cheeks. "I see the way you two look at each other. Oh, this is so _romantic_!" Jerking away, Hawke continued down the path, remaining silent. Her smile had faded and was replaced by a tough, resilient look. _Oh, maybe it's another boy then_.

About an hour passed by. Isabela had long since thrown her temper to the wind. Her feet ached, her skin itched, and by now those boys had long since vacated the Hanged Man. Hawke was no longer pleasant company, remaining completely silent unless offering the occasional _"You don't have to come," _which Isabela would vehemently respond to.

"Ugh, we could have walked through the Deep Roads twice by now," she said. She poked Hawke in the shoulder. "Just where are you taking us?"

If it wasn't for the fact that Isabela hadn't taken her eyes off of her, she might have noticed how much her friend's expression changed. At the start of the trip, she looked rather cheery. Now, she looked sick, and ghastly. Her face was pale, and her eyes a soft red. She walked down the length of the block without another word. Isabela trailed reluctantly after her. _I placed way too much time into this to give up now._

When they turned the corner, Isabela took in the sight, and paused. What lay beyond was one of the many routes that led into the Sundermount. This route, however, was seldom ever used.

It was the Kirkwallian Cemetery.

Isabela felt a sinking feel in her stomach as Hawke didn't break stride. _Oh, what have I gotten myself in to?_

The sinking feeling got worse with every foot she took deeper into the graveyard. It was disquiet, and whenever she saw a weatherworn name on a weatherworn grave, Isabela sped her pace.

Finally, after what seemed liked hours of walking, Hawke took place in front of a mighty grave made of white granite. She knelt down in front of it. The flowers were placed tenderly into the vase, and onto the very foot of the grave.

Isabela couldn't see the mage's face, but she grew somber at the sight of her trembling shoulders. Not sure what to do, Isabela awkwardly knelt down next to her.

"It was today wasn't it?" she asked, trying to sound gentle. Hawke wouldn't rise to face her, instead uncorking the wine bottle and holding it up to the grave, like a toast. She took a deep swig.

"Yeah…" she said quietly, wiping her mouth. Her expression was that of cracked glass, all too fragile, and broken in two. "I still have dreams about her, y'know? She's still there, her blood's still soaking my hands..." She took a deep, shuddering breath. Isabela didn't know what to say, so she remained silent. Hawke continued to drink the wine deeply. Over half the contents were already gone.

Minutes passed without any sign of Hawke moving. The pirate sighed, wondering how many times her friend had to come up to this grave completely alone. Isabela, usually careless and deceptive, rested her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Hey, I knew your mother well enough to know she wouldn't want to see you moping around like this!" she tried valiantly to cheer her up.

If anything Hawke's expression grew sadder. "There are a lot of things I knew she would have dreaded to see me doing…and yet…?" Silence fell over them like a black cloud. A black crow shrieked into the sunny sky. "I have the three flowers for all of my late family members…mother, Carver and Bethany. Although this is mom's marker, we never retrieved their bodies, so…"

"I get it…I think," Isabela said. The white carnations stared up at her in their crystal vase. Isabela grimaced. Hawke looked up at her suddenly.

"I'm ready to go."

Then she stood and walked back to the entrance on the graveyard. Isabela blinked rapidly as she jumped up to her feet. In the next instant Hawke melded with the people of Hightown.

_What a strange girl,_ she thought to herself. She cast the white flowers one last glance, before running out after her, wondering if there was any wine left.

**~*O*~**

**Yeah, twice I sent my Carver to die. And in turn, Bethany. And of course there's Mama Hawke. Now that I think about it, my Hawke must seriously hate my guts. I always send her family to death. Hmm, isn't that curious?**

**See you guys tomorrow~**

**~DM-sama**


	8. Chapter 8: Atmosphere

_**~*Atmosphere*~**_

"Aries…_check…_Fornax…_right here_…Peruses…Peruses?" Hawke swung her telescope from side to side, her brow furrowed. She chuckled at the line of twinkling stars. "There you are, silly boy." Pulling out her scarlet booklet she jotted down a quick note. Putting away the pen she refocused back up to the sky. _Cetus, Eridanus, and Hydrus…everyone seems to be here. _Satisfied, Hawke retracted her personal telescope and pocketed it away. "I guess Varric's diary idea isn't too bad," she thought out loud.

Finally she tucked her booklet, and rested her arms on the roof's ledge, feeling a satisfied by good days work. It was a tradition started up by her father many a year ago. At the start of every month she and he would head outside and sit on the muddy ground, and categorize the monthly constellations. It was very good fun for her.

The moon was particularly bright that night, paving the streets with a light akin to the sun. _Well-done_, she said to the moon. It made it easy to see the occasional wander-by, but better yet, it gave her a clearer idea of what Kirkwall would look like when the snow finally came in. She wasn't quite sure why. Hawke sighed dreamily.

After a few hours of daydreaming the night away, Hawke eyed one wandering pedestrian that walked quietly down the street. Her eyes widened, and her lips twisted mischievously. She raised her hands, and shook them wildly. "Hey! Hey, Fenris!" she called down. The elf looked around, perhaps wondering where the nose came from. When his eyes landed on her, she could almost see the annoyed look on his face. Her grin widened.

"What do you want, Hawke?" he called back up. Both were obviously unconcerned with their sleeping neighborhoods. She placed her chin on the ledge, looking down at him cattily.

"Nothing, just minding my own business," she said, combing through her hair. "But an elf warrior sneaking through the streets at two in the morning…_that's _certainly suspicious." He crossed his arms witheringly.

"Not as curious as a refugee magician spending her nights alone onto top of an estate," he countered. At this, Hawke laughed at his tone of voice. Suddenly, a Kirkwall housemaid stuck her head out of the window and barked angrily down at them. "Now look what you did," Hawke cried out. "Go apologize to that poor woman for waking her up from beauty sleep."

"No," he called back, and began walking away. Despite his cold tone she could see the light smirk curling his lips.

"Okay, okay, give me a few seconds to come down!" she cried as he walked farther and farther away. Bracing herself, Hawke gripped the ledge and skillfully leaped over it. Sliding down the roof, she hopped down and landed on the ground with an audible "_oof"_!

"Beautiful," Fenris offered sardonically.

"And no magic tricks involved!"

"I doubt that."

Both walked down the street in silence, Hawke slightly jumping along from the adrenaline rush, and Fenris a shadow in the dark. It was like any other walk through the park. The atmosphere was tense, but tolerable.

"Might you tell me why you were walking alone in the dark?" she asked him.

"I was paying a visit to the dwarf," he replied. He became very smug. "He owes me twenty-five silver."

"Good to know my wallet won't become suddenly light tonight," she murmured, and laughed at the glare he shot her. "No, those gremlins are on break tonight, aren't they?"

"What about you?" he asked. He gestured at the roofs. "You weren't planning to turn thief, were you?"

"Oh no, I could never live with being a thief, way too strenuous," she battered away the suggestion. "No, I was doing some…astronomical research." She nodded, liking the funny word. He blinked. "Reading the stars, you know? Cetus is particularly bright this evening."

"Cetus? Let me guess, he got lost too?"

"Oh, ho, you're _so _funny." She gave him a pointed glare. "You wouldn't have happened to start that fairy tales books, would you?"

"Not a chance."

"Thought so." Taking a few quick seconds, Hawke directed her attention to the black sky, seeking out the said constellation. She pointed it out after five minutes of searching. "There he is, right between those two buildings." Fenris looked and looked, but came up short. Hawke cracked a huge grin. "You haven't been doing sky research, have you?"

"It seemed unnecessary at the time."

"Let me guess, "Not much time has been spared for exercising your mind like such. You know, with killing slavers and mages and all that." " She curled up her lips. Oh yeah, she remembered all that stuff he spewed at her. Another glare.

"Why research the sky? There's nothing to gain from knowing about stars," he said. Hawke's smile slipped, remembering fondly the nights she had shared with her father, learning the legends of the stars. Skipping slightly, she loped her arms around his shoulders.

"I'm sure many a sailor would heartily disagree with you," she protested. She poked his shoulder. "Stars are a way to navigate in the open sea. And besides, learning about the stars and their legends is interesting. Take dear Cetus for instance," she gestured towards the sky. "He was a mighty sea fish, feared by all who dared set sail in the open water. No one would face him, until one day, two demi-gods, Peruses and Heracles, joined forces and killed it."

"Is there a moral to be learned for this too?" Something told her everything she said just flew into one ear and went out the other.

"No, but it's interesting, right? This is our history; we need to know where we've been to know where we're going, you know?"

"You're starting to sound like that Dalish elf now," he noted.

"Hey, she's not far off the mark," she admitted, smiling fondly. "I'm just saying that maybe you should look into this stuff. Reading doesn't have to be all about learning what's absolutely necessary. It's fun!"

"It's amazing, but you're one of the first humans to ever say that," he admitted. "Even those shmucks in the library last week didn't say anything remotely close to that."

"Oh, us humans, what can I say?" she scoffed, sourly remembering when Fenris had left her alone. Acne boy was all over her about that wretched fairy tale book. "Hey, we need to talk about you ditching me like that, by the by."

"Oh, look, we've reached my house. Goodnight, Hawke."

He vanished in a flash.

_I will not give up_, she steeled herself with determination. Suddenly, she shivered. _Brrr…_

**~*O*~**

**~DM-sama**


	9. Chapter 9: Limbo

_**~*Limbo*~**_

_Ever since she had first fled Ferelden in the face of her sister's death, Hawke had been constantly hounded by the same dream. It changed every so often, but the underlying fear was always present. The nightmare would dig its way into her heart, and cause her to awake screaming and in a cold sweat. Eventually, she grew used to the presence of such nightmares, that she no longer awoke to her night terrors. It was a small comfort. _

_With the personal familiarity of her constant nightmares, Hawke never questioned how she knew that that night's dream was drastically different._

_It started off like any night. Hawke, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe, seemingly awoke alone in a shelter that looked as if though it had been abandoned for years. Slowly rising, she fearfully took in her surroundings, struggling to remember where she had come to be and why. Suddenly a piercing cry echoed across the hollowed walls. Hawke clapped her hands over her ears to block out the terrifying sound._

"_This isn't real…it can't be real…" she weakly mumbled to herself, drowned out by the resounding cry. He eyes began to fill with tears. Limps trembling, she shot down the hallway, trying to find the source of the horrible cry and put an end to it._

_At this point, Hawke knew, she would dart across the hallway for hours until she came upon a bloodied doorway. Beyond the door would be the most gruesome and traumatizing sight she would ever witness. All of her family members, living or dead, would have been founded lying in a bloodied heap on the ground, writhing in obvious agony. Genlocks and Dragonlings feasted on their living bodies, ripping off their flesh from their bones._

_Normally, Hawke would watch helplessly as her family screamed for help, tears mixing with blood as they slowly died. She had never had the ability to speak in her dreams. She wouldn't have been able to move. All she could do was watch. _

_Then the vision would break and Hawke would awake in a cold sweat, reality rushing back to her in a painful flash of light. Moonlight would pour through the open window. She would lie awake until the sun would rise, hours later, breaking the nightmare's hold on her._

_That was usually how her night terrors went, almost unchanging since that fateful day in Lothering. Usually. _

_But this dream was different. _

_In fact, she never made it past the darkened hallway._

_When the scream would have sounded, instead her surroundings melted away entirely. She was met with a floating abyss, where she instantly lost her sense of direction. Up was down, left was right, and everything seemed off balance. Nothing moved. Not a sound was heard. _

_Like many dream people, Hawke wasn't mystified by the change. No, dream Hawke would accept the change as reality while, hours later, the real Hawke would lie awake, trembling. _

_So, Hawke waited silently. _

_And she waited._

_And waited._

_Days seemed to pass in the floating sea of mysterious white fog. After a long time, Hawke blearily noticed a figure dowsed in shadows moving through the darkness. At first it was a tiny speck, no bigger than her pinky finger. However, it grew bigger as time slowly passed, and more clear to her eye, until it was an entirely silhouetted figure, moving towards her. Finally, it emerged. Hawke gaped._

_It was Fenris._

_When Hawke would recall this memory, all she could remember was confusion. Fenris had always been in her night terrors, either a victim or a grotesque scavenger, true. But even in this suspended state of limbo, she knew that that Fenris was only a pale reflection of the elf she knew. A dream Fenris. The Fenris before her now felt…odd, somehow. _She_ felt odd._

_The elf warrior hadn't said a word, staring at her with his hardened, crystal eyes. Eyes that looked haunted and empty, like even a speck of light had never gained entry. Whether or not he was surprised to see her, she couldn't tell. She could never tell. Instead, grim acceptance seemed to burn in his eyes, and he suddenly seemed closer than ever before._

"_A dream? Or perhaps a punishment?" he would say. Except that the words never left his lips. They echoed around her ears, like music would in an empty room. The elf took a slow, deliberate step towards her, his eyes burning. "I can never tell…"_

_For every step he took foreword, Hawke took one step back. The absolute intensity that which he stared with made her wonder if he was either about to make love to her or pierce her heart with a dagger. Perhaps both._

_Words stuck in her throat. Her thoughts halted when she realized she had backed into a wall. She blinked. Suddenly her whole room in the Hawke estate materialized before her. Her eyes widened._

_Fenris had not ceased moving. He placed his hands on either side of her head and pressed himself close against her. His breath warmed her cheeks. _

"_No matter…" he murmured, seemingly to himself. He gently combed through Hawke's midnight black hair. In a world where self-control mattered so little, Hawke's dream self shuddered without meaning to. "Like silk…" he whispered. His lips brushed the softness of her neck. His tenderness lingered on her skin, but she could feel the desire simmering in his touch. He quickly became rougher, his hands gripping her arms, his teeth nipping her skin. _

_Hawke's breathing accelerated. She __gripped at Fenris' snowy white hair, and kissed him with a need she hadn't known existed._

_It left her aching for more. It left her aching for the intimacy that she had been at a loss for ever since her mother died in her arms, taking everything that made Hawke with her. It left her aching for the one night where she had claimed everything that made Fenris, without the hardened shell he had built around his heart._

_She deepened the kiss with a frenzied need, which he returned with equal fiber. In a flash, Hawke found herself lying on the comforting scarlet sheets of her bed. His lips had never left her own._

_All Hawke could remember at that point on was the sensation that she was falling…falling…and falling…_

Sunlight poured through the open window as Hawke awoke with a sharp gasp.

**~*O*~**

**So as I was browsing through my other SOTM chapters, I noticed that I had categorized this story under 'Romance' as well. And yet…? Even still, when I think of limbo I think of the Fade. When I think of the Fade, I think of dreams. When I think of dreams, I think of...ample opportunity...**

**To Be Continued~**

**~DM-sama**


	10. Chapter 10: Love

_**~*Love*~**_

The next day, Hawke found herself in a particularly…grumpy mood. Despite the fact that she was, for the first time in months, fairly well rested, her eyes felt sore and she could barely drag herself out of bed.

When she had ventured out to meet the group at the tavern, somehow they could tell something was off with their friend. Face contorted to a deep scowl, Hawke had quickly ordered a drink, and sat down without another word. Isabela watched the exchange, and shot a questioning look over to Merrill. She shrugged. Scoffing, Isabela joined the grouchy Hawke at the table.

"So, what's got your panties in a knot?" she asked, folding her arms on the table. Hawke took that opportunity to chug down her drink. "Let me guess…you found a frog in your underwear drawer, perhaps?" That earned her an odd look. Isabela shrugged. "Got to start somewhere." Wiping her mouth, Hawke set the drink down.

"Just had some rotten dreams last night," she mumbled. Her eyes remained on the tabletop, her expression turning blank.

"Did you _dream _finding a frog in your underwear?"

"It might have helped if I did."

"Ah."

Both lapsed into silence. A few seconds later, Varric emerged from the stairwell, with a bad-tempered looking Fenris in his wake. They both were murmuring to each other, things she couldn't catch. Hawke gritted her teeth. The dwarf walked over to join the ladies. "So Hawke, what brings you here today?" he asked.

"Hawke had a dream about panties and frogs," Isabela volunteered, winking slyly.

"Stop putting words in my mouth," Hawke sighed. Eyes clouded and dazed, she took another long drink. "I'm just a bit unhinged, is all." She watched as Fenris crossed his arms and had his eyes averted in every direction except her own. _Wonder what pissed him off today, _Hawke thought bitterly.

"Was it those nightmares?" Merrill asked timidly. Her eyes were tinted with worry. "Haven't you been having those for a while? What changed?"

"_Nothing_, okay?" she snapped. The poor elf's face grew a deep shade of red, and she looked fretfully down at her hands.

"Hey, don't get cross with her," Isabela protested, pointing at her. "Whatever's got you in a bad mood isn't _her _fault." At this, Merrill let out an audible squeak, and covered her face.

"Honestly Hawke, what's got you so down?" Varric imputed. She didn't answer.

"Obviously," Fenris muttered, his lip curling. "Her latest plaything wasn't happy with last night's results."

The party fell silent, casting each other odd glances. Hawke and Fenris were legendary for their bantering and occasional crossfire, but with the absolute poison in his voice and her eyes, it was clear that something went wrong.

"What did you say?" she scathed. Fenris remained silent, eyes down casted. Face flushed with uncalled anger, Hawke slapped the mug onto the table. "_Fenris_?"

"It's not as if though you've kept your new love life a secret, now have you?" he bit out, glaring daggers at her. "I only made an observation." Both were tense and looked about ready to spring atop each other like wild alpha lions in the savannah.

"I think I'm having Déjà Vu," Isabela murmured, rubbing her temple. "Hmm, yes, yes…about three years, me thinks. Did you two happen to…?"

She tried to cool the rising tide, but the two seemed even angrier at her comment. Hawke stood.

"All I know is that he just called me a whore," she snapped.

"Hey, being a whore isn't so bad," the pirate tried again, scowling. Fenris stood as well, hands clenched into fists on the table top.

"Well, all I can see is a self absorbed slut going around night after night with company she's just met," he hissed. "_Pardon _me for not thinking you're an angel."

"Oh, sure, _I'm _a tramp for it, yet _you _are just the perfect little martyr."

"It's not like you stopped me."

"It's not like you didn't come begging at my front door!"

The two were so close that their foreheads were clicking together. Both of them barely seemed to be able to control their fist, Hawke's hands springing to life with flames, and Fenris' brand marks glowing with power. The party sat by, at a complete loss of what to do as the once-lovers shot poisonous glares at each other. Finally, Varric stood up, and clasped his hand on Hawke's shoulder.

"That's enough of you two!" he chastised, gesturing at Isabela. She took the hint, and placed her hand on Fenris' arm. "Calm down before the whole pub explodes. You're acting ridiculous."

The anger was slow to drain from the two entities, and even then a good portion of it remained. Hawke spat furiously, and turned to leave. "I don't take kindly to lies," she murmured heatedly. Then she walked out the door, almost ripping it off, and was gone. Fenris, too, walked away from the scene, eyes averted as he left through the back door.

Moments passed by.

"_What_ was that?" Isabela cried out, her hands raking through her greasy hair. "I knew that they hated each other, but _that _was just weird." In the midst of her confusion, the pirate suddenly noticed Merrill. The elf was trembling.

"Well, whatever it was, it's no good for us," Varric said, sitting back down. "We can't complete today's missions with those two at each other's throats." Isabela blankly nodded before placing a comforting arm on the mage's shoulder.

"Hey, don't pay them any mind," she consoled. She tried a smile. "Those two obviously have some issues to work out. It's not your fault though, you know." Burying her face in her hands, Merrill began shaking her head wildly.

"No…it is all my fault," she murmured weakly, looking pale and sick. Isabela blinked.

"What, did you add an extra dose of grumpiness in their coffee this morning?"

"It…it was…I…" Merrill was obviously having a difficult time trying to explain her thoughts, which caused the other two parties members to become more intrigued. Finally, after taking a deep breath, Merrill said, "It all happened last night… I was in the Fade trying to do an experiment, when I noticed Hawke's dream Island. It was so dark and scary… I could see Fenris' Island nearby too…and…I tried to help…to make a long story short I sort of…_linked_ their subconscious's together…"

"_Linked_ them? What does that mean?"

"It means I created a _link_ between them…that they share their dreams…and I…I…"

She fell silent. The whole ordeal had upset her so greatly, sleep had been hard to come by that night, and her eyes were bleary. Varric and Isabela looked at one another, trying to grasp the consequences of such an act.

"Can you fix it?" Varric asked simply. Merrill hid her face again and shook her head.

"I don't know…I tried last night…but I couldn't reenter…" She breathed. "This is all my fault…"

"Hey, don't get too down," Isabela said. Unlike the other two, her eyes were glinting mischievously. "Look, those two have been at it for years. Whatever their dreams selves did was nothing more then what they wanted to do in real life. Namely each other. No…I see this as…an opening, shall we say? A means to an end."

"What do you have in mind, pirate?" Varric leaned in, eye glittering. Isabela smirked.

"A way to get quality entertainment for the next month."

**~*O*~**

**Yup, true love at its finest. **

**What might this be? A plot within a plot? Plotception? How shall our sidekicks proceed with their evil plans against our dear protagonists? Will Fenris' and Hawke's dreams continue? Or will they be be driven mad with desire? Only one way to find out…**

**Props to the tenth chapter of the story! You guys are already one-third of a way done with my silly little prompts. ^^**

**To Be Continued~**

**~DM-sama**


	11. Chapter 11: Anxiety

_**~*Anxiety*~**_

_Dear Diary,_

_Today was perhaps one of the longest days I've ever been forced through. Not even my years with the smugglers were this horrendous. It's all because of that blasted elf. He's become _extra _insufferable. The others aren't helping, especially Isabela and Varric. They're really smug. Merrill was oddly quiet._

_But that's beside the point! _What _am I going to do that that man? Gutting him is an option…it would certainly be colorful. I just haven't a clue what to do about this, other than resort to violence (highly recommended). _

_Those dreams…they haven't left me in peace yet. It's been a whole week, and I never thought I'd say I missed my usual nightmares. _Any_thing is better than having to relive that memory…it's like re-opening an old scab. I'm no dream expert, but I know enough that having the same dream over and over means something is wrong. Oh, where's Anders when I need him?_

_I feel like everyone's been off today, not just me and the elf. Like they're all sharing some dirty little secrets. Anders looked infuriated, particularly at Isabela. Must have been an off night. Aveline didn't look too happy either. Probably, she's worried me and the elf are going to start breaking things in her precious Viscount Keep. I have to admit, we came pretty close to blows that night. _

Hawke looked carefully at the sentence, and then reached over for an eraser.

_Forget about that. _

_The cold breeze is finally starting to set in, at least. It really helps out when we're scouting out in Sundermount. We ran passed that cave me and the elf were trapped in a few weeks back. To think we managed a whole night without killing each other…amazing…_

_Another thing, something weird happened with Merrill when we came back down to Hightown that day. We passed by the Accessories shop, when suddenly she made a loud comment about the jewelry. I distinctly remember that one conversation we had about diamond rings, and I gaped at her in horror. "Perhaps I should ask Fenris my question, now," she muttered, eyeing the elf lurking nearby. I was furious and beat red, so I distracted her with pointing to the dirt on the ground._

"_Look! Dirt! Scoop some up for cupcakes or something!" She did it too, looking as happy as a school girl. That wasn't the weird part, though it was odd and incredibly awkward for me. In the corner of my eye, however, I saw Isabela having an absolute field day. I mean, she was crouched over laughing her pretty little lungs out. I am convinced, now more than ever, that the party is planning something behind my back._

_The elf didn't seem to notice anything. When I walked over towards him, he made some snide remark I can't remember. I told him we were going to Merrill's house for cupcakes later. It took some convincing, but I got those two over there. I'll tell him at some point the secret ingredient. Maybe. Rotten bastard. _

_Regards,_

_~Hawke_


	12. Chapter 12: Sweets

_**~*Sweets*~**_

The day was warm, and carried a lovely cool breeze. The residents of Kirkwall were content with the weather and it put everyone in a good mood, even the scanty merchants of Lowtown. Only three people were in a less than fine mood.

Two of which were obvious. Fenris and Hawke were still in a bitter mood with each other, hardly being able to stand each other's company. Those who weren't on the inside (namely those who knew about Merrill's 'trip') naturally assumed something had gone wrong in the bed. This infuriated them even more, which Isabela and Varric happily used to their advantage.

The other misery party member was the start of it all, Merrill the blood mage. Whenever those two began making crude remarks, she looked a second away from crying. It was eating her up, and despite their commiserating at her dilemma, the pirate and dwarf had already set their plan into action.

"This is just mean!" Merrill had protested during their trip to Hightown. Their destination was Hawke estate. "You're only making it worse for them!"

"Oh, hush, kitten," Isabela comforted. "It may _seem _like we're being heartless, but trust me I've read enough romance novels to know that by the end of this story they'll be having _real _sex!" Merrill frowned at her crudeness.

"Besides, it's fun to get one those two nerves," Varric offered. "They've done it to us plenty of times; time for a little payback."

"No worries, kitten." And with that, Isabela patted her head and knocked on the Hawke estates' door. A few seconds later, a smiling Hawke answered the door.

"Well, well, if it isn't you three," she greeted. She crossed her arms and leaned on the doorway. "Let me guess; the city had burst into flames and you need my help to get a watering can?"

"Sounds like quite the night," Varric offered. Smirking, Hawke stepped aside and invited them in without another word. Merrill hesitated, but otherwise stepped inside.

"So, what brings you here?" Hawke asked, taking a seat in the reading room.

"Why can't we just be visiting?" Isabela asked curiously.

"Because I know you people."

"Fair enough."

Hawke waited patiently for her to continue, but when it became apparent that she wasn't she quickly became uncomfortable. Her left foot began fidgeting. She turned to Varric.

"So I'm having a good time with that whole diary thing," she tried casually. "I usually use it for notes and doodles. But it's nice when my brain needs to take an unloading. Especially now…" Her face began scowling.

"Glad to know, I'll remember it," he said, looking strangely catty.

"That reminds me!" Isabela exclaimed suddenly. Hawke furrowed a brow. "You see, dearest Hawke, I need something to be picked up and subsequently delivered. However, I have prior engagements that need to be attended to." At this, Hawke chuckled.

"You have a perfectly good set of legs; one would think you'd use them."

"Oh, I intend too, but just not now. It's at a little store downtown and the product is already there. You just need to pick it up and deliver it. The patron is in the Chantry, and will be waiting for you later this evening."

"Just to be sure, it's not an illegal transaction, is it?"

"Not at all," Varric said. As Hawke took a closer look, she noticed there was a certain keen of amusement etched in their faces, except Merrill's. It had her place her guard up, but she still was curious as to this errand they wanted her to run. She agreed.

"Fantastic, here's the address." Immediately Isabela withdrew a sheet of paper with a bunch of numbers and words inscribed upon it.

"I'm not that predictable, am I?" Hawke asked worriedly, even though she accepted it.

"No, we're just very smooth talkers."

"Of course."

Minutes later the trip watched enthusiastically as Hawke, fully dressed, made her way down the Hightown street and vanished from view. They looked at each other and proceeded to the run down mansion tucked away in the corner of the street.

**~*O*~**

Hours had passed, and Hawke was still as baffled as ever. The address, in fact, had led her to a candy store, of all things. She placed in the order designated under Isabela's name, and received a delicious looking box of chocolates.

_Either Isabela is using me as a messenger to some secret admirer_, Hawke thought. _Or it's filled to the brim with drugs. Probably the later._

Doing as instructed she waited until night came forth, bringing with it the various street thugs with it. Of course, they knew well enough to know to steer clear from her, so she was met with little resistance. The box tucked comfortably underneath her arm, she stood before the mighty Chantry steps.

Only the occasional nun was to be seen, and she was almost convinced that Mass was almost in session. _I had better pick up the pace before it starts_, she decided. The receiver of the package must surely have been there. _In and out as quick as a flash_.

The term summoned certain thoughts that caused her to frown, and she began her trek up the stairs. When she arrived and opened the mighty doors and was met with the sight of a various robed men and women milling about the building. There was no indication of any shady men hiding in the shadows. Hawke frowned as she walked all the way into the building.

Her eyes scanned the room.

She frowned.

She scanned it again.

Suddenly, her face contorted into a deep, furious scowl.

At that moment, Fenris noticed her too.

A few seconds of confusion passed then. Both stormed towards each other. A series of harsh words followed. Gestures were thrown wrathfully at the box of chocolates in her hands, and it was thrown back and forth at each other as if neither wanted to touch it. It was all commenced in whispers, however, as they were still in the Chantry. The nuns began looking at them.

When it all was over, they managed to get one thing straight; Hawke was delivering something, Fenris was supposed to be receiving something, with no knowledge of who the other was supposed to be. All on the request of one Isabela and Varric. It was like a blind date.

They've been set up.

Eventually they were kicked out of the Maker's House.

"I fail to see the point in any of this," Fenris mumbled angrily, maintaining a healthy distance from one Hawke.

"Those two are just…trolling us," she mumbled. Without thinking about it, she opened the box and nibbled on a milky square. It made her feel slightly better. She handed the box over to Fenris. He looked at her. "Might as well, it's her money…"

After a few seconds, he took a dark chocolate. "Right…"

**~*O*~**

**A point? There's supposed to be a point? Silly Fenris!**

**Oh those two, they'll work it out eventually. Once they figure out about their dream escapades…Also Hawke's not so dirty little secret. Don't worry, you'll find out next chappie. It should be interesting~**

**See you tomorrow~**

**~DM-sama **


	13. Chapter 13: Eclipse

_**~*Eclipse*~**_

The minute the sun rises, Hawke is immersed in a daily routine.

First, she would lie in bed and wonder if it was worth getting up. _Does anyone _really _want my help today_? After a while she decided that the threat of Kirkwall spontaneously combusting without her presence was too great, so she threw the sheets off and arose from the bed. She would take a good long stretch, and walk out the door.

Second, she would ready herself for the coming day. It mostly consisted of wrestling with her hair, and viciously attacking her teeth. Her robe hung on the closet and she slipped into it with ease, sighing contently.

Finally, she would waltz down the stairwell and gobble down some breakfast. The teensy elf girl always had a bowl of fruit waiting for her, even though Hawke insisted that she was just a guest. The elf would smile and nod, but Hawke suspected she didn't comprehend a word. _It must be an elf thing, _she wryly concluded. She'd eat her fruit, and leave for the day.

However, with the past few days' events, her whole pattern was disrupted. In fact, she hadn't a clue where to begin. When she awoke, the sun had already started the day without her. Then she remembered her confliction with her party members. Then she remembered how big today was.

The day of the Kirkwallian Eclipse.

Very exciting.

All of the excitement made it hard for Hawke to think, her brain still sore from tiredness. So she started simply by thinking about the Eclipse.

Everyone was going to gather in Hightown for the event. Special glasses were sold left and right by vendors, some at a ridiculously expensive price, but everyone managed to get one. After all, an eclipse was a fantastically rare thing, and no one would ever dare miss it on the account that they _might _burn their eyes out. Classic, classic Kirkwall.

Her party had already decided to meet in front of the Hawke estate at the stroke of noon. Anders was sneaking out of Dark Town to meet up with them, and Aveline managed to get off duty to come watch the event, which had greatly surprised her. Even Fenris was crawling out of that dark little hole he called his manor. All in all, a moderately successful event.

Except Hawke didn't feel at all like going.

Last night's dream had been particularly exhausting for her. It wasn't like it…usually was. Something was different. It was like nothing happened, but the whole tone had spontaneously changed. She half-heartedly hoped it was a sign of the dreams ending and her getting the good ol' nightmares back. The dreams themselves have done nothing harmful, only causing her to ask questions about her strange relationship with the elf, questions she had no desire of answering. Fenris seemed to have the same dilemma, though it was impossible to tell why. It was…painfully annoying.

This latest dream involved nothing more than her and the dream Fenris, sitting back to back in the misty white place. It was quiet…and peaceful.

It royally pissed her off.

Flinging the sheets off of her person Hawke stamped off into her closet. She threw on her robe without any thought and stormed into the main room, where the tiny elf girl threw her a confusing look.

"Umm, mistress," she protested weakly. A bowl of watermelon was in her hands. "Are you okay? You've been in bed for hours." Hawke blinked, wondering what time it was. Judging from the sun's position, it was well past noon.

"Maker's Breath…" she cursed silently. Not giving it much thought, she snatched the fruit, mumbled a quick thank you and jogged out of the door. _I'm late…they're going to eat me. _She tossed a chunk of melon into her mouth and chewed it delightfully.

When she opened the door the crowd was packed with various, awaiting citizens. It was chaos in the normally quiet Hightown, and it threw Hawke off even more. She couldn't see any sign of her friends at all.

At some point Hawke lost the bowl, whether she left it somewhere or a pickpocket was at work, she was too distracted to know. There was no sign of Isabela's blue bandanna or Anders' golden hair. Nothing. Sometime later some special Eclipse glasses were shoved into her hands by Maker knows who. That could only mean the event was starting soon.

Still no sign of anyone.

Finally, everyone started gasping and suddenly there was a mass exodus of people throwing their glasses on. She copied, still very much distracted.

The next few seconds were so amazing and mystifying, that Hawke wouldn't forget about it anytime soon. Like a gigantic cloud, the entire region of Kirkwall was plunged into a dark shadow. Various shouts and excited screams were sounded, and she had no doubt that when the sun came back some possessions would be missing. It still wasn't her main concern._ Eclipse-shlumists, where the hell did everyone go_?

At last, she saw something. It was (_By the Maker, this is getting ridiculous_) the grumpy looking Fenris standing alone in a shadowy corner. Unlike always, it wasn't his usual _I hate you _look that caught her attention.

He was glowing.

"Howdy, stranger," Hawke greeted, frowning slightly. He hardly noticed her existence. At long last, she finally glanced at the sun, and her mouth grew agape. She had no doubt in her mind that when the first eclipse came round the templar's' had immediately assumed black magic. It was quite amusing, but altogether so beautiful she couldn't move her eyes.

Fenris was still glowing.

"Mind explaining…_this _to me," she tried, when he remained sullen.

"A reaction," he said.

"Like allergies."

"In a way."

"You're allergic to eclipses?"

"Perhaps."

"Fascinating."

She could tell he was annoyed by her distant friendliness. Though his words from the other day still stung fresh in her mind, she was way too tired and baffled to hold onto that simmering anger. Besides, wasn't that the whole point? To get him angry?

Desperate to talk, she turned towards him. "So where'd everyone go?"

"I wouldn't know. They ditched me first chance they got," he mumbled after a few seconds.

"You sure you didn't just wander off?" He looked at her. "All I know is here you are hiding in the shadows, _glowing_ nonetheless, and as antisocial as ever." She crinkled her nose. "And I thought we were making such progress with you." Instantly, Fenris withdrew deeper into his shadows.

"Stop trying to be friendly with me Hawke," he snapped. "With both still hate each other; stop messing with it." Hawke took a deep breath, suddenly remembering the dream from last night. It brought a fuzziness feeling to her gut.

"Look, we said some things, called each other names, almost killed each other," she said. "No different from our other conversations. I just…I was having an off day from…a dream I had—" Fenris gave her an odd look, but she ignored it "—but we're both probably sorry for what we did."

"Don't put words in my mouth Hawke," he said, though not unkindly.

Without her realizing it, Hawke could see that the sun had returned once more. Laughter, and cries of outrage, resounding across the city, and it improved Hawke's mood by a mile.

When the darkness was completely gone, she felt like a burden was lifted off of her shoulders. She felt lighter. She actually smiled for the first time in a week. Though it wasn't exactly a smile, Fenris' eyes looked softer than before.

**~*O*~**

Merrill watched timidly from a distance. When the two looked like they weren't about to kill each other, she grinned, looking exhilarated. _It worked! I did it!_ Isabela offered a grunt of disappointment.

"Well, that didn't last too long," she muttered. "I thought we could at least milk a week, but _nooo_."

"Hawke never stays angry with that elf," Aveline muttered, touching her lip in thought.

"No kidding," Anders mumbled, looking decidedly unhappy. "I remember the week after Fenris left her—she was as right as rain."

"No matter," Varric said, giving Isabela a catty look. "This isn't even halfway over. I've got an idea…"

Merrill was hardly listening, thoughts filled with her last night's visit to the Fade.

**~*O*~**

**Told you they couldn't stay mad at each other! Alas, dearest Isabela and Varric won't give up! **

…

…

**I really need to include Anders more often, don't I?**

**Oh, were you expecting Hawke's secret? I said that, didn't I? Well, when my dearest friend gave me the word, I realized now…was not the right time. However, we'll get there eventually.**

**Hugs and kisses~**

**~DM-sama**


	14. Chapter 14: Curse

_**~*Curse*~**_

"Can someone pass a match?"

"_Ow!_ That was my foot!"

Someone grunted.

"Is it just me or is the floor moving?"

"Who the hell is touching my bum?"

Suddenly, with a loud snap, a small match illuminated the dark cavern. A grinning Hawke held it in the tip of her fingers. "Where would you guys be without me?" she murmured, relighting the smoked out lantern.

"Probably safe in a warm bed," Varric suggested, his golden hair glowing in the firelight.

"Probably, but not nearly as entertained."

The dwarf held up his hands in submission. Hawke smirked.

"Let's get a move on," Aveline said, her voice resounding at the front of the group. "We've lost too much ground; the escapees are probably miles ahead by now."

"Probably," Anders muttered. Aveline gave him a cold stare.

The party continued forth, each offering only the smallest of comments for conversation. Isabela murmured about her hair, Merrill panicked at the sight of bones, Varric and Anders talked about the Wardens, and even Fenris was striking a conversation with Aveline.

The only one silent was Hawke, who remained focused as she kept a sharp eye out for ambushes and traps. _Oh, the life of a babysitter_, she thought morosely.

Despite the sharp attention to kept to her surroundings, a few hours passed by without incident. Isabela exclaimed loudly how bored she was getting, in which Hawke happily suggested that she shove it. The pirate scowled.

After about four hours, something of interest finally happened. Without warning, Fenris took a few quick steps, and was suddenly walking side by side with Hawke. She blinked.

"Where exactly are you taking us?" he growled, though it wasn't as aggressive as normal. She commiserated him. Even _her_ feet were killing her.

"Cullen said a batch of blood mages went waltzing down this tunnel a few days ago," she explained. "We were sent to fetch them."

"I know that, but _where _are we going?"

"I don't know, Narnia I guess."

He stopped in his tracks, and Hawke had no other choice but to stop with him. The whole party came to a halt. _I swear he lives just to annoy me_, she scoffed.

"So you came cajoling your way into some dark tunnel with no map and no plan, after a group of proved to be crazy blood mages, right?" Anders could be seen scorning.

"Sounds right," she murmured. He gave her an odd look. "I like to keep things interesting."

"By getting all of us killed?"

"Yup."

They all remained silent as a smirking Hawke began to continue the slow pace they had set. Though she detested admitting it, he was right. Cullen came to her out of the blue, and she hardly had enough time to set up a plan other than just getting her party together and running the hell down here. It's why she's remained extra vigilant. She could almost hear Fenris rolling his eyes as he walked after her.

"Well, when you get yourself killed, don't come crying to me."

"Of course, _Mother_," she scorned, turning back to look at him. "Look, when worst comes to worst just run in the opposite direction and leave everything to m—"

Just as the words 'me' left her lips, a gigantic, hairy, hissing, slobbering, _thing _lowered herself from the ceiling immediately in front of Hawke. She turned to face it. It spat ferociously at her. The words died on her lips.

Taking a few rather dizzy steps back towards her party, Hawke felt her legs wobble out from underneath her. Then the world went black.

**~*O*~**

"_Leave it to me_, she says. _I can handle anything _she says."

"Shut up, Fenris."

With the spider good and dead, and Hawke properly aroused with some cold water (courtesy of Anders) the party set forth once again. She could tell Fenris was still simmering on her lack of plan, and she tried her best to ignore it. Her party, built up with frustration from walking all day, was starting to have their doubts.

_We must be close by, no Circle slob would ever have enough energy to walk this long_. Hawke began furiously thinking, senses keened to their limit.

Finally, finally, _finally_, something happened. It caused her heart to sink and beat in excitement at the same time. She reached for her mage's staff.

They had walked into an ambush.

Almost instantly Hawke began to bark out orders; Merrill, Varric, and Anders remain as far away from the fight as they could. Aveline, Fenris, and Isabela charged forth to meet the mages head to head without another word, and Hawke was grateful by their quickened sense of reaction. With everyone in the thick of battle, Hawke moved to go join.

She tried to shift her feet, but she almost fell onto her face in the mere attempt. Looking down in shock, her heart dropped when bluish black tar seemed to be crawling up her legs.

No one noticed Hawke's dilemma, all too concerned with their own duel partners. Fenris and Aveline alone were pitted against a powerful Commander Mage that seemed, if anything, as distant from the battle as possible. He always remained behind a shield, yet buffed up his allies any chance he got.

Anders and Merrill had a more difficult issue with the archers, having to divide their attention three times over, yet always managed to be hit by crossfire. Lighting up the cavern, Anders sent a wave of telekinetic energy, and knocked them all out. Varric stayed to the upper level, like a demon from the skies. Isabela moved like a shadow, taking down anyone that she deemed fit, with no logical pattern.

Eventually, the main magic man was the only one left.

The allies moved to help the warriors.

He vanished before they got too close.

"Well, we're obviously getting nearer to their base," Aveline muttered, wiping the blood off of her shield grimly.

"Let's move quickly, before they have time to reorganize," Fenris glowered, and began to move towards the tunnel. They didn't go very far before Merrill suddenly swung her head from side to side. "Wait, where'd Hawke go?" she said, her voice tapping off the walls.

"Well, now that you're all done with your fun," a small voice whispered at the other end of the cavern. It was Hawke, submerged from her waist down into the rocky floor beneath her. Only her head and an arm remained level. Fenris was over their before anyone else, his eyes wide.

"What the hell happened?" Fenris spat venomously, eyeing the bluish black tar that seemed to be swallowing Hawke whole. Even now it began to crawl up her arm. He grabbed it and ferociously tried to pull her out, almost dislocating her shoulder.

"This is some serious black magic…we're up against bigger peoples then I realized…" she whispered, and just like that, her whole face was inundated. Like shadows, the thing crawled swiftly up her arm, which even began grabbing at Fenris' hand. He let go in shock.

Hawke had vanished.

"She's not dead," Merrill muttered hesitantly after a few seconds of stunned silence. "It's demonic magic used to trap prey."

"That doesn't mean she's not well on her way," Isabela muttered, her cheeks pale.

"They must have set a trap for her," Anders said. His face was contorted in a scowl.

Without another word, Fenris moved out of the cavern and down the tunnel, looking like a natural disaster as he did.

**~*O*~**

It seemed as if though days had passed before they had seen any sign of their missing leader. Twice they had to stop and take a break due to bleeding feet and sheer exhaustion. But they persisted.

It was exactly two days later until they reached their destination.

Inside a mighty cavern made out of stone, there laid the escaped blood mages. And they party had finally caught up with them.

They were expected.

"Where is she?" Varric had been the first to speak. Though it was no more than a shout, all of the mages seemed to hear him. A sick grin crossed everyone one of them in sight. The apparent leader stood behind a pure white granite altar. He was the one they had fought when Hawke vanished. He looked the sickest of them all. He raised his hand towards the black wall.

"See for yourself, dearest guest," he said coolly.

The whole party looked, and, almost simultaneously, gaped in horror.

There rested Hawke.

As if though glued to the wall, her arms dangled helplessly from the walls like a limp doll. Her lower half was completely obscured, and anything that was visible was covered in blood. Lifting her head slowly, Hawke grinned. Her eyes were dull.

"Hey guys…" she murmured quietly. "You missed…all the fun…" Her head flopped back down tiredly, like she didn't have any energy left to hold it up.

"What did you _do _to her?" Isabela barked out, unsheathing her daggers with a vicious sneer. The other party members followed. Fenris was snarling.

"She has been punished for betraying her own kind, as any templar scum would be." Everyone in the room remained deathly calm in the face of Hawke's companions. "We have given her a few more hours of life. _You _shall be next, however, so I would not lament."

The blood mages began surging forward, but before the party could take action, a bloodcurdling scream resounded across the cavern. Hawke was writhing in pain as some unforeseen force cut violently into her chest area. "Take any move, and she shall die right this instant," the main mage said calmly. Hawke's screams continued.

If it had been any other situation, the party would have forfeited, realizing that nothing would have been solved if they had continued to fight. They would have been locked up and would collaborate together in order to find an escape. They would have reclaimed Hawke, destroyed the sacrificial grounds, and would have made like hell.

Fenris, however, took the matter into his own hands.

His tattoos had sprung to life. His teeth were bared, and a vicious growl was emanating from his throat. A cold, powerful aura shot forth from him, sending prickles of fear running down the spine of anyone that stood too close. He looked more akin to a wild, diseased dog than the calm, composed elf he once was. It only got worse with every tear Hawke shed.

The mages stopped in their tracks.

The battle was over in five minutes.

**~*O*~**

On the third and final day of their mission the party spent it trying to remove Hawke from the walls. It took hours, but before long, she lied quietly on the ground. Her breathing was short, and her lips were lightly parted. She was deathly pale.

There was a new scar to her person, an intricate design bloodily carved into her wrist. It was Tevinter for 'traitor'. It was a curse mark, much like Fenris' markings.

"That was _amazing_," Isabela sighed in wonderment, still looking down on the battlefield with complete awe. "I mean, how on earth did you _do _that?"

"I don't know," Fenris muttered, kneeling down close to his wounded leader. Merrill was next to him, trying to heal Hawke's most serious gashes.

"Incredible…I've never seen anything like it! And trust me I've seen a lot of things."

"I'm sure you have."

"We should get moving," Merrill muttered, eyes glistening. "I can only heal so much before the wounds open up again. They're cursed. We need a more accomplished, trained healer to deal with them."

Without another word, Fenris lifted Hawke into his arms and carried her off. The party watched after him as he disappeared down the tunnel.

**~*O*~**

**Wow, it got pretty intense, didn't it? I only wish I could make it that much better. –Sigh– What can I say? It's almost Christmas! **

**Also, does anyone know where that lantern ran off to? **

**...**

**Yeah, me too.**

**Much love!**

**~DM-sama**


	15. Chapter 15: Paradise

_**~*Paradise*~**_

The Orlasian Tropical Beach Retreat was probably one of the most beautiful and renowned vacation hotspots on this side of the Free Marches. With its dazzling white sandy surfs, the crystal blue waves lapping gently at the resident's ankles, the clear, warm, sunny blue skies, many people have taken residence smack next to the ocean getaway.

About five miles south of the beach laid a small town where many of the vacationers took their stay. Like any other beach-town, it was lined with straw-laced huts where the locals would watch the foreign people as they made their way through the village. Overpriced souvenirs, and ridiculous merchandise marked it for what it was; a tourist trap. But most people didn't mind too much, despite their lightening wallets. They already had to pay an arm and a half to get on a boat out to here.

Even still, many of the vacationers were wealthy Orlasian families that had the pocket money to afford such an expense. Posh, snobby, and very 'sophisticated', only the children ever got their feet wet in the wet sand. The parents kept an eye out for the latest oceanic trend. The beach was crowded, yes, but every Orlasian tried not to stare at the newcomers who were so obviously dominating the scenery.

"So you hold the ball in your hand like this," Isabela instructed, holding out the volleyball in her left hand. "And then you _smack_ it with your fist!" With a powerful thrust, she brought forth her right hand, clutched in a fist, and smacked it up into the air. Merrill watched as it flew away.

"I got it!" Aveline cried out, keeping a close eye on the flying ball. With an impressive dive she jumped forward and smacked the ball back into the air using her wrists. It went soaring back into Merrill's hands.

"Oh, I think I get it," she murmured, bouncing the ball from hand to hand. Taking up the position Isabela had instructed to her, she swung her right hand and, with all her might, she punched the ball with a loud grunt. It sailed over to a resting Orlasian woman, and thwacked her on the forehead. The elf cringed.

"Sorry, ma'am!" Varric cupped his hands and shouted. Throwing a rather childlike hissy fit, the middle aged woman viciously kicked the ball back towards them. It fell rather flat. On looking children laughed loudly as the woman slinked away sulkily.

"Well, she didn't have to leave," Aveline said, walking over to pick up the ball. She thoughtfully bounced it around for a few minutes before restarting the game. "Her loss, I guess."

The four party members continued their silly game with delight. All were dressed in their swimsuits, and seemed to be having a fantastic time. Even those who weren't participating.

Miles away, down the sandy surf, was a warm, isolated hot spring that remained hidden from prying eyes. Within the shoal was a small black head of hair, half submerged in the water. It was thoughtfully quiet, and with its eyes close, and lack of activity, it might as well have been asleep. Hawke opened her eyes when she heard someone approaching. She looked to see an incoming Anders, wearing a pair of blue trunks. It was an odd sight. She grinned

"Why, hello Anders," she murmured, having some difficulty speaking. She was verydrowsy. "I thought I was the only one who knew about this place." Anders grinned and shrugged.

"You're not as sneaky as you'd believe Hawke," he said, kneeling down next to her.

"Oh, and I thought I was _so _sneaky," she despaired, swimming around in the spring. A few seconds of silence befell them before Hawke rose onto her feet and sat on the bend. Anders tried not to stare at the sling cradling her right arm.

"How's it feeling?" he asked.

"Oh, it's a lot better now," she said, jiggling it around a bit. "Merrill did a pretty good job to get it sterilized." A shadow crossed over Anders face, and he became oddly somber.

"I know you've heard it enough times, but I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner," he murmured, so quietly Hawke almost didn't catch it. "I was just…too surprised…"

"Too surprised by my injuries?" she probed him, furrowing a brow. "Or too surprised by the ritual itself." At this, Anders scowled.

"Both I guess…everything was just too much. Your disappearance, your wounds… Besides, Fenris wouldn't let me come anywhere bloody near you anyway. He looked like a Marabi Warhound with his snarling and biting."

"I wouldn't know, I was unconscious," she said matter-of-factly. Smirking she nudged him with her sling-estranged elbow. "Oh, c'mon Anders, it's not like I was on the brink of death. The only problem now is this stupid marking, and there's nothing you could have done about that."

"Perhaps," he said. Hawke rolled her eyes, knowing that Anders would wallow in his own self-pity until he was good and ready to listen to reason.

"All I know is that I'm alive and well," she wryly. Softening her gaze, Hawke lifted her good hand grazed Anders' shoulder. "I also know we've wasted a good ten minutes on mindless chatter, when I know about several other things to pass the time."

Never one to be slow, Anders took the hint and his grin became very sly. Eyes sparking, Hawke leaned in for a kiss.

"When you are two are _quite _done."

The couple jumped apart in surprise. A glowering elf was staring down at the both of them, and Hawke shot him a glare. Anders looking decidedly embarrassed, and rose to his feet.

"I'll be heading back down then," he murmured, quickly walking back down the path. Fenris' defiant stare followed down after him until he vanished. Hawke scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"When you're done acting like you have an urchin stuck up your butt," she scorned, gesturing at the recently occupied spot next to her. His expression was difficult to read, unlike Anders, as he stared down at her sling. "I really hope you have a few good jokes up your sleeve, because there goes my hour's entertainment."

"Sorry, I've come up short," he murmured. He stared at her. "Glad I didn't walk in a few minutes later."

"Honestly, you think I have so little self-control, dearest elf?"

"I'm well aware of your relationship with him."

"Then you shouldn't act so sulky," she said casually. In the very corner of her eyes, she observed the grumpy elf. Unlike the other male party members, Fenris wore a darkened black shirt in addition with his swimsuit. Whether it was to hide his tattoos, or because of his general insecurities, she wasn't sure. _Well, I doubt the latter would bother anyone_, she thought, distinctively remembering the contents of last nights' dreams. "So tell me, why aren't you having fun down there at the beach? It took a lot of work for me to get a ship out here."

"You mean smuggle us all through the cargo?"

"Hey, Cullen wasn't so fond of the idea of a break, what can I say?" She scowled at the memory of the templar and his reaction to her proposal for recovery time. _Pig_. Her left arm sent up a small zing of pain, and she winced. He looked over to her.

"How bad is it?" he asked, his face as neutral as ever. Her hand twitched feebly in the sling.

"It's not the wound that bothers me," she muttered, trying to fold her hand into a fist. "The curse…it's like there's a barrier between me and…the Fade…you know?" She combed her left hand through her hair, feeling restless. "I can't reach it, not at all. But it's still _there_…you must be happy."

"Why would I be happy?" He looked at her in surprise.

"I can't cast magic without the Fade," she explained tiredly. "I might as well be like any other person in Kirkwall now…"

They both didn't speak for what felt like the longest time. For perhaps the millionth time since her expedition to the cave, she tried valiantly to reach the mystical land of dreams. Like all the other times there was an obstacle, like a crystallized wall, that prevented her entry. Every time a little piece of her soul seemed to die. "I don't know what to do…"

"Take it one day at a time," he said plainly. Confused, she shot him a puzzled look. "You aren't a Tranquil, that much I know. There's still a chance for you, but there's no use dwelling on it. Come." He reached down for her left arm and pulled her up to her feet. Hawke's eyes looked strangely dewy.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Guess there's not much use hiding up here, is there?"

"No."

Both began the trek down the grassy hill, Fenris just one step ahead of the mage. Hawke felt…content. After a few seconds of contemplation she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks."

His eyes softened, and granted her a small smile.

**~*O*~**

**You figure that the Champion of Kirkwall would get at least two weeks of vacation time, right? Sick days, even? But no, Cullen is a prick, what can I say?**

**Thanks to fujingodofwind for pointing out that my character tag **_**Hawke **_**was changed **_**Garrett Hawke**_**. I would be more confused on why they changed it, if I wasn't so concerned with that fact that they changed it to the **_**male **_**Hawke. Is there something they're not telling us? Pish-posh, the problem has been solved. **

**Got some Anders in there, just for you my darlings. A few people were confused why Merrill was fixing up Hawke in the last chappie instead, and I didn't even realize what I did till I posted it. So let's just say he panicked. Kk? Kk.**

**(Plus, I probably butchered the hell out of DA 2's geography, but it just sounds better this way, you know? Forgive me, oh most wonderful gamers.)**

**See ya'll tomorrow, my loves~!**

**~DM-sama**


	16. Chapter 16: Courage

_**~*Courage*~**_

"Sure is a nice day for a mountain hike!" Hawke cried out. Holding out her head she listened as her echo bounced around. Feeling particularly energetic, she hopped around the many mountain crevices.

"Try not to break yourself," Fenris murmured, not to too far behind her. Hawke turned heel and shot him a playful glare. The rest of the party followed up behind him, all looking decidedly out of breath. Isabela's hair was all out of whack. Varric's face was a bright red.

"How you humans can breathe up here…"—he took a deep breath of air— "…I can never understand…"

"It's because we're so high up, the air is thinner up here, and harder to breath." Merrill the elf, meanwhile, looked like she might as well have just come back from the spa. She was completely at ease and looked more confident than any other time in the Alienage. A mountain lion in its own territory. Even the snow didn't seem to affect her. Varric shot her a glare.

"Well, now that we're up here, best time to get planning," Hawke said, having some effort speaking. It was hard enough to breath, let alone talk. She pointed up towards the gigantic hole in the mountain's side. "There's a chance of creatures hibernating up there, so we can't all go blundering in there and wake everyone up. One of us will have to go through the cave and meet up with everyone on the other side. It's only best place here to get the raw materials."

"Oh, yes, who wants to go through the scary cavern with sleeping bears and the like, all by themselves?" Isabela panted; her cheeks were pink. "Trust me; I'll take the snowy mountain."

"Yeah, I don't like the prospect of climbing up this hill either," Varric murmured, stretching out his shoulder blades. He glared up the mountain slope like a dark enemy. Hawke rolled her eyes and raised her left hand.

"I'll go on in the cave and collect the silverette," she said, grinning at her friends enthusiasm "It's not like I would be much use in the long run around the slope anyway."

"Don't be silly, Hawke, I'll go with you," Anders said, taking a few steps forward towards her. Hawke smiled, and opened her mouth to say something, before being abruptly cut off.

"So you can panic and leave her bleeding on the ground again?" Fenris bit out, casting the mage a dark glare. "There's more than likely going to be a few nightcrawlers wandering about. You would be overwhelmed in an instant."

"Just because I'm healer doesn't mean I can't defend my friends," Anders snapped.

"What are you going to do? _Speech _them to death?"

"Some people actually strategize their battles rather than just hack their enemies with a blade."

"_Some _people actually fight their battles rather than fight in the shadows like a coward!"

The two men's voices were thickly laced with venom, and they looked instants away from a fight. Hawke's mood at slipped into that of quiet rage, and she opened her mouth to shut them both up. She was cut off again.

"If you're _both _done acting like children," Merrill, of all people, snapped at them. Everyone looked at her in surprise. "Look, we all know this is a touchy issue, but we can't go on about it like this."

"But it's so amusing," Isabela murmured, casting Fenris a sly glance. He was sulkily looking at the snow on his feet. Merrill didn't acknowledge her.

"Anders"—she looked over to the fuming mage—"you're going to have to stay with the larger group, we can't go on without you're healing abilities out here. Fenris, you can go with Hawke. You'll be better suited to protect her." Fenris aura became insufferably smug as he shot Anders a look. Anders frowned.

Now, Hawke was about to spit in anger.

"_Hey!_" she snapped. "Didn't I just say only _one _person needs to go through the cave. Suddenly I don't get a say anymore?" The other party members wouldn't meet her raging eyes. This caused her irrational anger to further evolve. "I'm not a child, I'm not helpless, and I most certainly do _not_ need your help." She directed the last retort at Fenris. He barely blinked, instead furrowing his brow.

"You aren't in any condition to be on your own, especially in a place like this," he said. Much like a child, Hawke stomped her foot and flailed her slinged arm around.

"What, just because of some stupid broken wrist?"

"You know it's more than just your wrist, Hawke."

"I'm not some damsel in distress, you know. I can take care of myself."

"We're just burning daylight at this point." He swung his head towards Merrill. "Start heading out, we'll meet you at the exit tomorrow."

"What? _No_, I—" Hawke has suddenly cut off when Fenris lurched forward and threw her over his shoulder, like she was an intolerable child. She hissed and spat all the way up to the cavern, wondering just how much the fool she looked to her party members as they walked the other direction.

**~*O*~**

"I can't believe you actually did that," she murmured.

"You've been saying that for hours."

"I know. I still can't believe it."

The contents of the cavern were nothing more than rocks, mold and the occasional skeleton. Like she had predicted neither of the two encountered any awakened creepy-crawlers that might have been stalking about. Her earlier anger and frustration had left her, though some bitterness remained. Her feet were aching and her body was freezing. The sling was as uncomfortable as ever.

"Here, we can stop here for the night," Fenris muttered, eyeing a small, out of the way clearing in the corner of the cave. Hawke remained silent, shivering.

After the cargo was unpacked she volunteered to unroll the sleeping bags, and he left to get some fire sticks. After a few minutes of clawing and biting at the bags, the roles were eventually switched. A quiet Hawke returned with some firewood and material. Fenris lifted the flint stones to start the fire, before pausing and casting Hawke a strange look.

"Would you like to try?" he questioned. At first she thought he meant with the stones, but after a few seconds, her eyes darkened. Steeling herself, Hawke lifted her left hand solemnly, and began to focus.

Nothing.

Not even a few sparks.

Hawke went to bed that night as far away from the fire as possible.

**~*O*~**

She awoke to the sounds of fighting.

Jolting up in her sleeping bag, she was met with the sight of twenty or so poisonous spiders all huddled together at the other end of the clearing. Her heart sunk when she saw no sign of the elf.

"_Fenris!_" she cried out, unthinkingly rushing towards the battle. Instantly she saw a white head of hair right in the middle of the battle. Suddenly she was met with the gaze of twenty hungry eyes.

"_Run. Now._" he cried out, focused deeply on his current battle. He tried regaining the attention of the spiders, but too late, they all crawled their way to the mage. Hawke's legs remained frozen to the ground, and her vision began to swim. Finding the willpower in her gut, she turned heel and ran in the exact opposite direction.

No matter how far she ran, even when the sounds of battle grew distant, the overgrown bugs frittered their way after her, not intending to lose an easy meal. Without giving herself time to think she reached into her pocket and withdrew a small fire grenade and shot it behind her. A mighty explosion sounded, and before long Hawke dived behind a mighty rock, her breath rickety.

She didn't know how long she sat there. Focusing with all her might, she ignored pounding heart, and keened with all of her senses to detect any noises. The battle had long since faded into the distance, and absolute silence seemed to echo all around the tunnel.

Hawke waited.

Silence.

A small _crack! _caused her to take a sharp breath.

Without warning, a gigantic, spitting Queen spider appeared to her right, and Hawke screamed louder than she ever had before. The spider opened its mouth and lurched forward, bloodily biting her arm. She cried.

Suddenly, at that moment, Hawke felt completely, and utterly defenseless.

It very well crushed her soul.

With a loud sickening snap, the spider's head rolled onto the floor, and Fenris stood by her side, his hair caked and covered in blood. He looked frantic.

"Come on, there's a whole clan coming!" he breathed out, casting a fearful look down the tunnel. Pulling her up to her feet, Hawke swayed precariously on unsteady feet. Although he managed to pull her a few yards down, the threat of the beasts were becoming more and more evident.

"C—carry me out," she said weakly. Not having much time to think, Fenris leaned and pulled onto his back. She held onto him tight. Pretty soon Fenris was piggybacking Hawke down the long tunnel.

**~*O*~**

Hours passed.

They both made it safely out of the cavern, with the silverette tied in a bag onto Hawke's belt.

She still hadn't let go of him.

Her head was buried deeply in the crook of his shoulder and neck, and she was quivering violently. Tears seeped from her eyes.

"I don't know what I'll do…" she sobbed quietly. "I've never been so powerless before…I can't…I can't…"

Then she retreated into her silence again, leaving a defeated looking Fenris in her wake. Finally, after hours of walking, he stooped down, and let her go.

"You can't go on like this," he murmured, leaning down next to her. "You act like you're completely alone in the matter, as if there's no one here to help you, Hawke." Her eyes were hollow. He rested a light hand on her cheek, and soothingly stroked her hair. "We've been together for years. You've helped all of us in our times of need. We're here for you. Let me help you."

Hawke was silent, staring up at him with those unfathomable eyes. The wind bustled through the two of them, making his hair fly wildly.

After a while, Hawke leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. "Just...please don't let me go," she whispered softly into his ear.

He cradled her body closely to his chest, feeling her warmth seep deeply into his skin.

**~*O*~**

**What the—? Is this…**_**character **_**development? In **_**my **_**story? PFFFT!**

**Got this done ten minutes before midnight! Epic planning, says I! Even though I had six hours to work on it! Hip-hip-hooray!**

**Adios amigos~!**

**~DM-sama**


	17. Chapter 17: Boredom

_**~*Boredom*~**_

There are few words that could properly describe Isabela the pirate.

Immoral? No. Horny? Maybe. Utterly wicked? Sometimes.

Completely and absolutely bored out of her mind? There are those few words. She was actually _shocked _by how bored she was. The problem was that the oh-so-wonderful _Team Hawke_, she should say, had basically built their new lives around Hawke's crazy schedule. If they weren't on the move, they would want patiently in their home base until she came to pick them up.

It wasn't like she's had a day free of chaos before, but usually there wasn't such a gloomy cloud hanging over everyone's head. No one wanted to play with Isabela when Hawke hadn't been seen in two days, bedridden. The pirate considered going to visit her, for kicks or even to lend a comforting hand, but she decided against it. Talking wasn't her thing.

So, with nowhere to go, she went up to Hightown and took up shop in the Merchant's Market, having the occasional chat with some people she knew. It made her somberly realize how out-of-touch and unsociable she's become. _Blasted Hawke_, she thought to herself. _I'm a social outcast now! Dye my hair white and call me Fenris. Or even Anders…those two…_

That was when she got a wonderful idea. An awful idea. A wonderfully awful idea. Her lips curled up in delight. A few people in the courtyard shot her nervous glares. Ignoring them, she whisked around the merchants shop and eyed a beautiful little Christmas red ribbon. She snatched it up and ran up the Hightown road.

Reaching the gloomy mansion that currently belonged to Fenris, she began to obnoxiously bang on the door, using both of her fisted hands, and shouting with all of her lungpower, which was quite impressive. A few seconds later, a bedheaded Fenris opened the door, looking at her grumpily. Obviously he had just woken up, since he was bare-chested with only sweat pants on. It was a silly sight.

"What," he grinded his teeth, his temper already loose, "do you want?"

"I just wanted to make a proposition to you," she said smoothly, hiding the ribbon behind her back. _I need to trend carefully for this to work._ "Look, I'm sure you've noticed how Hawke's been hiding in her room all day, right?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"You see, I've been worried about her lately, her being all isolated and such."

"Get to the point," he bit out.

"I think I have an idea to get her back outside in the fresh air, see?"

Some of Fenris' foul mood seemed to alleviate, just a slight bit, as he stared up at her. "Is that so?" It's been clear to anyone's that been paying attention (namely Isabela herself) that Hawke's deepening depression was affecting him in some way. He seemed edgier and even less willing to talk. It reminded Isabela of the days when she first met him.

"Yeah," she continued. "Just meet me in the Courtyard in an hour's time, and I'll tell you more." Without another word she turned heel and headed in the other direction. Little did Fenris know she was heading directly for Dark Town. Even still, he closed the door with every intention of getting dressed.

**~*O*~**

It's been nearly two hours and there was no sign of the pirate girl. He felt like quite the fool, just standing there looking blankly off into the sky. He was already considering dragging Hawke out himself by the time Isabela finally returned.

With Anders.

Isabela was noticeably out of breath as she jogged back up with the mage in tow. Taking a few seconds to breath, she almost missed the rising hostility between the two men. Fenris rose to his feet, and judging by the expression of Anders face, he wasn't happy either. Isabela was grateful they didn't bring weapons.

"What is he doing here?" Anders said, looking decidedly cross. "You said something about getting Hawke outside."

"Curious," was all Fenris said. The mage shot him a glare. Isabela was still breathing heavily, becoming almost obnoxious with it as she placed a supporting hand of Anders fuzzy shoulder.

"I need to get back into shape," she breathed. The two men took no notice of her plight, instead glaring fireballs at each other. Anders almost quite literally. Isabela shook her hands about. "Boys, boys, there _is_ a reason for you both being present this fine afternoon."

"Quite a vocabulary," Fenris muttered, crossing his arms. The two men didn't stop with their glaring. Isabela snapped her fingers to get their attention.

"Hey, focus elf," she said. Finally, she reached into her pocket, and pulled out the ribbon. "_Now_, here's what I'm proposing. Each of you is going to have a competition of sorts. Whoever wins gets to go and drag Hawke out of her room, with my blessing, and take her on a date."

"A _date_?" Fenris said incredulously.

"Yeah, it's where you take a girl to go get dinner or something—"

"I _know_ what a date is."

"Could've fooled me," Isabela smirked, earning a wry grin from Anders. "Anyway, this is how it's going to work. I have this ribbon. Only one ribbon. There's two of you. _One _of you is going to have to take it from my person, or wherever it might be, and whoever does get's the lovely Hawke as a prize."

"Who's to say we can't just go up and get her ourselves?" Anders asked, crossing his arms too.

"Because Hawke will bite either of us if we try," Fenris said. "Besides, that blasted elf won't let you through anyway." Isabela became smug.

"See, _I _can fix that," she said. "All you have to do—"she leaned towards the two, holding the ribbon out daintily—"is take it from me. It's that easy."

She teased them both for a few minutes, grinning at their unwilling expressions. No matter how many times she wiggled it right under their noses, they wouldn't budge. She was a patient girl, though, and she could easily sense their rising frustration at her.

Suddenly, Fenris snatched at it.

Isabela jumped back.

"Cut it out," he snapped, his eyes fixated on the ribbon like a meat bone. Isabela's smile grew, and slowly she moved back towards him. He glared spitefully at it, but started to grab at it all the same. _Got him_.

"Oh, c'mon Anders, you don't have a chance just standing there like that," she mocked, jiggling the ribbon right next to his cheek. He looked like he wanted to bite it.

"This is ridiculous, only an idiot has time for this," he protested, ignoring the look on Fenris' face.

"Well, I guess you really don't have a chance with her, with an attitude like that," Isabela sighed. Feeling the hook being casted out, she flinched away again as the mage swatted at it. _And the cat goes meow._

It was only a few seconds later that Isabela was charging down the Hightown street with a fuming Anders and Fenris close behind her. _I think I just found the next two hour's entertainment_, she thought, her heart thumbing wildly fast.

**~*O*~**

It was actually four hours later that Isabela got to quit running. The chase, however, lasted for a good seven hours.

Fearing that she was pretty soon going to get tackled by the testosterone-crazy men, she had the ribbon thrown onto an unsuspecting Merrill, who happened to be passing. Though Isabela was slightly guilty because of it, she laughed at how the elf ran as if though she was being chased by mountain lions.

The trio was out for sight for a while, until they resurfaced sometime in the Gallows. Some poor bystander had picked up a dirty ribbon dropped by a fleeing elf, only to almost tackle by another one. Anders had been lost, and it looked like Fenris was going to win, until the ribbon fell to the mercy of the wind and blew itself all across town.

Like a madman, the elf chased after it, even going onto the rooftops and jumping like crazy to reach it. Anders was quick to resurface and followed after, both trying to push each other off the roofs. _I wonder if they even remember why they're going after it_, Isabela mused as she watched the two vanished.

Hours later, after Isabela had completely lost sight of Anders and Fenris, she doubled back to Hawke Estates, and sat patiently on the steps leading up to it. _If they're even still playing_, she thought, _they'll be back here_. Nothing seemed to happen for a while, only a few people were milling about this time of day. She unsheathed her dagger and began carving her name onto the stone, over and over.

Finally, she saw Anders running towards her, looking positively exhilarated. He held the once-spotless ribbon out to her. "I got the ribbon!" he said. She looked around curiously. _Wait, wait, give it a moment_. Then, with a loud battle cry, Fenris appeared just behind Anders and tackled him to the ground. The mage went down hard and in the next few moments were filled with violent wrestling and grabbing and hissing.

Isabela watched, and feeling as if though she's had her fill, she stood and knocked on the door. The cute elf girl opened and stared up at her with big eyes. "Can I come in for a quick snack?" Isabela murmured, knowing full well that the elf wouldn't allow _anyone_ near Hawke's room. The elf hesitated, then nodded, and turned to let her in. She didn't even notice the two wrestling entities on the ground.

When the door closed behind her, the furious battle continued. Predictably, the poor, mistreated, red ribbon broke apart and had the two sprawling away from each other. They looked at their own separate pieces in confusion, and looked up to Isabela.

She was gone.

Fenris and Anders slumped tiredly onto the ground.

**~*O*~**

**Oi vay, it's three o'clock in the morning as I'm writing this… probably why it's so insane, right? I guess you guys are going to get two prompts today. Apologies, I left at eight o'clock this morning, and didn't return till one o'clock the next morning. **

**Well, it seems that I just can't help but pick on Anders, can I? He's just so…easy to pick on? Ugh, I can't offer witty banter while I'm chugging down Coke Zero to stay awake! Good night, sweet Dragonlings!**

**~DM-sama**


	18. Chapter 18: Memories

_**~*Memories*~**_

_The clouds hung precariously in the sky as a young Hawke made her way through the darkening forest. Although she and her family had never ventured out so far from the city life, she wasn't too scaredf. All she's seen so far were a few bunny rabbits, and that was hardly enough to get her running off, especially after the wild tales of werewolves and forest spirits told to her by that crazed hermit._

_Nothing fun had happened though and she was very quickly becoming bored. She thought she saw a shadow at some point, but a silvery fox fled the scene and she was put to rest. Eventually she began to just wander around aimlessly. It was when she noticed a drifting body in the distance that she paused, and instinctively crouched behind a tree stump. Heart picking up pace, she peaked out. _

_Upon further inspection, Hawke began breathing easier. It was only an elf, and all the elves she's ever met were kind and very forthcoming. For some reason though, her body didn't let her leave her ill-conceived hiding spot._

_Suddenly, with a sharp cry, Hawke felt her hair be almost be tugged out of her roots. Her world disoriented as she felt herself be dragged roughly across the dirt clearing. Clawing at whoever was grabbing her, visions of maddened wolves danced under her eyelids. With a great shove she was pushed against a rocky surface, only to be met with the eyes of a hardened looking elf. _

"_Well, well, what do we have here?" he said, looking positively feral. "A wandering shemlen too far from home?" A second elf came up beside him. It was the one elf she had seen earlier. They were very different from the elves she knew. They looked like animals. The gears in her head began swirling._

"_You had better let me go," she squeaked out, trying to sound calm. "I've been gone for hours, and my family will come looking for me!" They weren't fazed. They even seemed amused._

"_By the time they show up we'll have already had our fun," the second elf said. Hawke's heart sank deeper into her chest as she realized what they meant._

"_I—I mean it!" she cried out, tears brimming over her eyes. "I know how to do magic! I'll b—burn you both into a crisp!" The two elves seemed to be laughing as they leaned in on her. The first elf withdrew a dagger._

"_Oh, we don't have worry about that, do we, shem?" He asked, cutting the weapon into her throat._

_Without warning, the two elves lunged at her._

In the present time, Hawke cringed with fear, and curled the blanket tighter around her person. Tears began to leak from her eyes.

It's been two consecutive days that she had gone without sleep. Every time she shut her eyes the horrible memory painfully resurfaced, and she would toss and turn relentlessly as it did.

So wrapped up in her own isolated cocoon, she almost didn't notice it when someone had grabbed her shoulder, and began shaking her about. She opened her eyes, and then blinked.

"Not now, Orana," she muttered, retreating deeper into the soft comfort of her bed. "I'm not in the mood…" She heard the elf girl chuckle, yet she didn't let up on the gentle shaking.

"So, it speaks," spoke a _male _voice. Her eyes popped open. "And I thought it was just a mass of fluff." _By the Maker…_

Very slowly, Hawke's fingers curled around the comforter of the bed, and she uncovered her face. A wry looking Fenris was staring down at her, smirking. Groaning, she pulled the covers back up.

"Why did Orana let you in here?" she said, her voice muffled by the blanket.

"I saw her leaving the house a few moments ago," he said, his hand still on her shoulder. "I think she intends to spend some of that salary of hers." Ripping the covers back down, she glared at the elf and his sardonic tone. _Oh, big surprise Hawke, she has a life outside of you_.

"Go away Fenris, I don't feel like talking," she spoke softly.

"Oh, big surprise," he said sarcastically. Hawke blinked when his words paralleled her thoughts. "Hmph, I remember a time when I couldn't get you to shut up."

"And I remember a time when I couldn't get you to even breathe," she retorted. "My, how the times have changed."

"Yes, lots of things changed." His tone of voice left no questions asked. Taking a seat on her bed, clearly saying he wasn't leaving anytime soon, he moved his hand from her shoulder to her side. She rested her head into her pillow, looking deeply into the wall.

"Why did you come here Fenris?" she murmured.

"I know there's something you want to talk about," he said cryptically. "Something you've been dwelling on the last few days."

Without an instants warning, the whole memory crashed down on Hawke's mind, and she suddenly felt like a million tons were just thrown upon her shoulder. The tears came to her eyes again, as she felt her chest start to constrict.

Fenris was quick to react, and in a moment's notice, he was directly above her, his expression colored with concern. She shook her head.

"It's just…" she tried to speak, feeling her throat constrict. "I can't…talk about it…"

He remained silent, staring at her with those blasted eyes of his. Eyes that said he would wait however long it took for her to collect herself and tell the story. Taking a deep breath, she tried to gather her words. She moved to sit up, though her shoulder slumped together.

"When I was ten years old, my family moved us close to the Brecilian Forest. I was…attacked by two elves when I was alone in the wood. They wouldn't let me go and I couldn't get away so…and they almost… they almost raped me…but another elf came and fought them off before they could…"—she took a deep, shuddering breath—"I couldn't do _any_thing…I couldn't fight, I couldn't use magic… I ran off before I even got a good look at that elf. I've been thinking about that memory more then I have in years…because of my…situation…"

Raising her right arm, she slid down her sleeve to be met with the terrible sight of her curse mark. "I've never forgotten how powerless I was."

The elf remained quiet. Hawke didn't look at him. She hadn't told anyone about this memory before, not even to her mother, having been too ashamed by her own helplessness. Instead of bringing a sense of relief, she sank deeper into her depression.

Without one word, Fenris closed his hand over her scar, hiding it from her view. Raising her head, she almost flinched from the burning look that seemed to sear deeply in his eyes.

"Hawke," he said. "You were only ten. Things have changed. _You _have changed. You are a grown, capable women who should be bigger and stronger than anything a group of blood mages or elves can throw at you. However much I long to hunt down those filth, I know you can get through this without my help."

"I may be older," Hawke muttered. "But this is more than just being stuck in the past. It's my life source, my… You don't understand what it feels likes, to have the very thing that's been keeping you moving, that you hold dearest to your heart…and to suddenly have it be ripped away…"

His grip on her wrist became stronger, and he remained gravely silent. The, he stared deeply into her eyes, and said, "I know exactly what you mean."

Hawke fell silent.

"All I know is that you're better than this," he continued, looking down to her hand. "The great Champion of Kirkwall deserves a better ending then just withering away in her room."

And then, he got up to leave her, smirking as he did. "It's not like Varric would allow that anyway."

And he was gone, leaving a quivering Hawke in his wake.

**~*O*~**

It was hours later, and Fenris was lying on his bed. Sleep seemed hard to come by nowadays, and his help was filled with thoughts about Hawke. It was odd to pay so much thought to her after years and years of stoic indifference. Ever since that night.

When the thought arose, a burning sensation began to form in his chest, one he tried with difficulty to ignore. It was a feeling he was quickly becoming familiar with as time passed on. It only came with thoughts of that one night years ago, when he had shared her bed, and so abruptly leaved. Even now, when he awoke from his recent dreams, the feeling lingered.

_Regret._

Suddenly, a powerful knock sounded on his door. It was so late in the night he at first thought he only imagined it.

Then it sounded again.

Head filled with thoughts of Isabela and pounding her face into the dirt, Fenris arose and went to give whoever it was a good beating. When he opened the door, a blast of freezing winter air swept through. Hawke was staring up at him, dressed in light winter clothes, and seeming to shake.

Her eyes were burning with fierce passion.

"I want you to teach me how to fight," was what she said.

Fenris blinked slowly, feeling like he had just woken up.

**~*O*~**

**W00T! One week before Winter Break starts! Hello, Midterms, we meet again!**

**Well, it looks like Fenris managed to lure Hawke away from home. For some reason that last paragraph feels like it was ripped right out of a romance novel. **_**Her eyes burned with passion**_**. Ha!**

**Wait…this isn't a romance story, is it?**

**Damn.**

**~DM-sama**


	19. Chapter 19: Snow

_**~*Snow*~**_

Six days away from Christmas, when the spirit of goodwill was falling over Kirkwall, the people there were blessed with a fresh blanket of Christmas snow.

It happened so suddenly one morning. The citizens of the city awoke to see a glistening, white snowy dream outside their homes, and a certain feel to the air that made everyone grin. It wasn't long before the children donned their winter clothes and charged outside to frolic about, effectively ruining the pure white picturesque snow. Hawke didn't mind that the pretty picture was wrecked, but instead grinned as the children began to make snowmen and angels.

_Oh, if Merrill were here to see this_, she thought to herself, wondering just where her blood mage of a friend had run off to. Having just awoken from a particularly peaceful sleep, Hawke felt disoriented and pleasantly light, albeit the soreness of her biceps and thighs. She grimaced.

Fenris had not been particularly gentle with her last night. _And not even in the dirty way_, she thought. She yawned and stretched.

"Y'know, this Christmas is going to be one to remember," Hawke said. Her newly appointed mentor stood beside her, dressed in a warm winter jacket.

"And what makes you think that?" he asked her, eyeing the snowballs that had begun to fly about.

"Oh, I don't know, I can just feel it in my gut." Hawke pounded her chest, feeling oddly light hearted. "Now, c'mon, let's go find the others." He nodded and followed after her without a word.

Isabela and Varric weren't where they usually were, which threw Hawke through a loop. Figuring they probably are having a snow party somewhere, she decided to try the Merrill the elf next. The Alienage looked vastly different hen it was draped in beautiful snow like it was. Smiling, Hawke knocked on the doorway. Then she knocked again.

No one answered.

"Oh, if you're looking for Merrill, she left a few minutes ago," one kindly elf said behind her. Blinking, Hawke thanked him and moved on. Fenris remained silent. _How odd…she's always home… _She decided she would try Anders next, as he was the only one she could count on to stay in the same place, twenty-four-seven, in that blasted clinic of his. _Twelve year old's probably got a cold_, she thought to herself.

But no. He was absent. The clients said he had left earlier that day, though they couldn't, or wouldn't, tell her where he went off to.

Even Aveline was missing from her Captain of the Guard's office. The guardsmen told her that Aveline had left sometime that morning without a word to anyone. Hawke crinkled her nose in obvious suspicion, but she thanked them all and left.

"Where did everyone go?" she mulled once outside the Viscount's. Overlooking Hightown was a pleasant sight at least. With the coming of snow everyone took is as a sign to start decorating their houses, yearning to be the best and brightest in the city. It was amazing how many people asked for her opinion last year. But she didn't distract herself. "Honestly, it's like they up and vanished!"

"Maybe they're all waiting for you at your house," Fenris muttered, talking for the first time in an hour. She blinked, and thought over what he had said. _I guess…where else could they be?_

Hawke followed up on what Fenris said, and decided to head back home. Like she had suspected, the pretty snowy scene was rather destroyed by mud and dirt and such. Come tomorrow, though, there will be another blanket of snow that the kiddies could effectively ruin. She rolled her eyes and grinned.

Little did she know of the many pairs of eyes trained on her as she neared her house. She was also oblivious of the way Fenris was backtracking a few yards away from her. A couple of shadowy figures rose from the mounds of snow, cradling unidentifiable objects in their hands. Then, with a loud yelp, someone cried out, "_NOW!_"

Shocked, Hawke turned heel and was instantly bombarded with the winter ice as it collided with her body.

**~*O*~**

"I swear by the Maker, we were just making sure you weren't an imposter," Isabela swore feverously. She raised her left hand and crossed her heart. Hawke rolled her eyes as she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

"Say _what_ever you will," she snapped, shivering. "All I know is that I'm soaking wet while your guy's hands are covered with snow."

"Technically it's water at this point," Merrill pointed out. "The heat of the house melted it all away."

"Thank you for that enlightenment," she murmured sarcastically. The elf looked pleased with herself. Hawke began to glare at Fenris. "And to think you _knew _about this ambush!" Fenris just shrugged, looking like he didn't trust himself to speak. "Traitor…" she mumbled.

"We're just glad to see you back on your feet, Hawke," Varric said, holding out a cup of hot chocolate to her. She took a deep gulp.

"You should have known you wouldn't be rid of me that easy," she winked.

The snow began to fall lightly on the outside. Hawke began to blink as she watched it, and then her smile grew warm. _Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…_

**~*O*~**

**Applauses to Alexis who so conveniently forgot to give me my word, and leaving me to fend for myself. Love ya', girly! Oh boy…**

**Well, I figured Kirkwall waited long enough for their rightfully earned snow to come their way. Apologies for the abruptness for this chapter, but Midterms is taking their toll, and I feel like shooting myself in the foot when I think about writing this. I'm **_**bone **_**tired…**

**And may visions of sugar plums **_**dance **_**in your head~!**

**~DM-sama **


	20. Chapter 20: Bird

_**~*Bird*~**_

"_Joy to the world, the Lord has come! Let earth receive her King! Let every heart prepare Him room! And heaven and nature sing, and—_"

"Hawke!"

"Stop interrupting me!" Hawke began whining, stomping her foot childishly into the snow. "Is a girl not allowed to sing carols in peace anymore? Or even think, perhaps?" Fenris glared icicles at her.

"Unless you want to make the hibernating bears angry, with your _wonderful _sing voice," he added sardonically. "I would suggest _piping it down_." If Fenris was ice, Hawke was fire. Her eyes were burning up.

"Yeah, I'll pipe it down…shove the pipe down your throat," she muttered. Turning her back to him, she crossed her arms, missing it when Fenris smirked.

"I seem to remember saying that to this one waitress last night," he said. Hawke began spitting foam.

"You little—!"

"Isn't it _nice_," Isabela interrupted, loping her arms around both their shoulders, "to have these two starting to argue again, just in time for the holidays?" Fenris groaned, and tapped Isabela away.

"Why did _she _have to come?" he asked Hawke, ignoring the feigned hurtful expression of Isabela's face. Hawke began grinning cattily.

"Oh, you know, when those bears come out, we'll have someone as a meat shield," she said casually, and began to laugh as Isabela took a few slow steps away from them. The two closed the gap, and began to talk amongst themselves, shutting out the rest of the world as they did so. Isabela jutted out her bottom lip. _I've been friends with them for years, and I _still _don't get their relationship._

She fell back with Merrill and began idle chitchat.

A few minutes later the group paused before a mighty tree that easily stood over twenty feet tall. Hawke gazed up, eyes sparkling. _Hmm, this could easily fit inside my house_. She beckoned Merrill forward.

"Test it out, see if we can take it in," she said, and the elf nodded.

"What are you talking about?" Fenris asked from her side, his hands in his pockets.

"Merrill _is _the tree expert; she's going to see whether it's a good tree or not," she said. They all watched as Merrill lightly tapped the tree with her forefinger, and rested her ear next to it. Fenris looked exasperated.

"_I _can do that, Hawke, there's no point in bringing them all along," he protested. Isabela approached from his left, and gripped his arm playfully.

"Don't like our company, elf boy?" she asked. She added the second part in a whisper. "Or are you just looking for some alone time with dearest Hawke?" He glared at her.

"Shut up," he snapped in low tones.

If Hawke had heard, she didn't make any sign of it as she walked over to the tree.

"It's a perfect tree," she stated, knocking her fist on it. "I think we should take it in before the frost damages it." Merrill nodded in agreement, and withdrew her mage staff.

"It won't take long, but I would suggest taking a seat," she said.

"I still think we should use an axe," Hawke muttered with a pout. "Y'know the more traditional route."

"You mean the 'hard work' route that takes up much time and energy?" Isabela questioned. Hawke looked over to her.

"You know that you're helping me set up the house decorations, right?" she asked. Isabela closed her mouth and looked dramatically in the other direction. Hawke rolled her eyes and did as Merrill requested, taking a seat in the snow. She habitually tightened her favorite red scarf (which she _never _left home without nowadays). Fenris sat next to her, and Isabela sat near Merrill. Hawke sighed.

"My father would always make us sing carols when we went tree-hunting," she said lightly. "Made us sing them, whistle them, clap to them, and dance to them…I guess the habit just stuck…"

"Well, holidays and the like weren't exactly encouraged in a place like the Imperium, much less singing," he explained matter-of-factly. "Pardon I don't know all the words."

"No _wonder _you're hearing is so superb, you didn't have carolers shouting _Jingles Bells _in your ear every night!"

"Jingle my, what now?"

"Oh, you know, _dashing through the snow_," Hawke sang. "_In a one horse open sleigh_. _O'er the hills we go, laughing all the way…_"

Fenris blinked at her. Hawke cringed, and began thinking wildly for another song.

"Well, there's always Deck the Halls," she tried again, and began clearing her throat. "_Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la la! Tis the season…to be jolly…_" He gave her an even blanker stare. "_Don we now our gay apparel—"_

"Your _what_?"

"Okay, okay, how about…umm… Oh! I got it!" Face flushing, she took a deep breath. "_On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me; a partridge in a pear tree!"_

"What on earth is a partridge?" he asked. Hawke shrugged, annoyed by the interruption.

"It's some sort of bird," she said quickly. "Now _shush_. _On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me; two turtle doves, and—"_

"Why would anybody want that?" he interrupted again. She bit her cheek.

"It's supposed to symbolize something, now _pay attention_. Okay, okay… _On the third Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me; three French hens, two tur—"_

"_More _birds? You people sure ask for odd presents," he said carelessly, ignoring Hawke's spitting rage. "Is that a normal request?"

"You would know if you _actually participated _in our holidays," she said, hissing through her teeth. Fenris stared at her. "Now _please_." She thought back to which day she was on, and then took another deep breath. "_On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle…doves…and a partridge_…_in a pear tree…_"

Hawke's face was oddly blank, as she recited through the four days of Christmas, thinking over her words. She parted her lips, then closed them again, her eyes clouded. "Well," she sighed, "whoever wrote this song…seemed to have a thing for birds, didn't he?"

Suddenly, with a mighty crash, the pine tree crashed to the snowy ground. Hawke and Fenris jumped up, taking in the sight. Merrill looked pleased with herself.

"All done!" she cried out from somewhere behind it. The next few minutes consisted of tying the tree up and planning a way of dragging it into town without drawing too much attention to their selves. As the girls schemed away, Fenris remained comfortably in the background, looking around the forest interior. A small little bird stood on a tree branch not five feet above his head.

When the girls made their decisions, and began to head to town, he reached up and plucked it right out the air. It squeaked in fright, which he ignored. Fenris looked it over. _Hmm, maybe I _should_ participate this year…_

"I think you'll have a hard time putting a bow on that. Hawke just loves bows." Fenris snapped his head up to Isabela, as she stared down at the bird. She smirked. "_On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me_…"

Fenris bit his teeth and almost threw the bird at her. "Shut up," he murmured, and walked away.

Isabela grinned.

**~*O*~**

**Y'know, FF. net is a complete troll. Remember a few days ago when they changed the character slot from **_**Hawke **_**to **_**Garret Hawke**_**? And then I had to change it over to **_**Marian **__**Hawke**_**? Well, apparently they went back to just calling her plain, old Hawke. And since **_**Marian Hawke **_**no longer existed, they just filed it under Fenris/unknown. It's just that…what was the point? *Shrugs***

**No birds were harmed in the making of this chapter. **

**Happy dreaming~!**

**~DM-sama**


	21. Chapter 21: Scent

_**~*Scent***_

Fenris was hungry.

But there wasn't much he could do about it. He couldn't cook too well, the one time he attempted it he burnt down half the kitchen, something that his quirky friend, Hawke, remembered fondly. He couldn't go out to eat, as he was practically broke. He never had a real reason for cash as Hawke usually forked over most of the dough made from the missions. However, due to her recent inactivity, there wasn't enough money to go around. She had kept all that she made for the holidays for decorations, and presents, which none of the party minded too much.

It still left Fenris a rather hungry and broke elf. _Maybe I can ask her out for lunch_, he decided. Figuring he needed an excuse to go see her anyway, he rolled off of his bed (where he had been lounging listlessly for most of the day) and suited up for the weather.

A few people were milling about when he walked outside, and none paid him too much attention. The mystery surrounding the tattooed ex-slave had long since bored the residents, and by now they might as well have been ignoring him. A few children gave him a quick smile before returning to their games, squeaking enthusiastically. _Never will these Kirkwallians make sense_, he mused, remembering the Magisters revulsion at the thought of getting soggy and wet in the miserable snow.

Reaching the door, Fenris raised his fist to knock when he heard a loud disturbance inside. Someone was shouting angrily, and something crashed. Blinking, he turned the knob, and walked inside.

Immediately he was overcome with the mouthwatering aroma of delicious bakery, and a roasting turkey. He was almost knocked unconscious from the blast, though his vision did dance a bit, and his mouth _was _salivating. There was no sign of Hawke, though, and he began looking around, trying to resist going towards the kitchen.

His search brought him to the dining room, a magnificent room, with a twelve seated table and a beautiful crystal chandelier.

It wasn't what caught his attention though.

It was Merrill, in fact, who was sitting down in a chair, with Hawke hanging over her, trying to shove a wooden spoon down her throat. Hawke (who was garbed in a red cooking apron and plaid shirt) was carrying a wild, frenzied look to her face, and the blood mage looked a second away from crying.

"C'mon, Merrill, just _one _more bite, _just one more_," she said through bit teeth. The elf was swinging her head from side to side, trying to avoid the sample food. Her face was covered in various flours, and she futilely mumbled "_no, no, no, no, no_."

Fenris could guess what was happening. Before he could do anything, though, Hawke's gaze snapped up and locked with his. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore. She grinned sweetly.

"Fenris," she cooed, ignoring as Merrill began crawling away.

Fenris bolted for the door.

"_Fenris!_" she snapped, chasing after him.

**~*O*~**

"Oh, relax, Fenris, it's not that bad," Hawke grumbled a few minutes later. Fenris sat stiffly in his chair, now unable to leave as she had tied him down. The rope chaffed him, but he was more concerned about Hawke's sudden burst of insanity. "_Orana_! Bring out a sample!" Hawke barked out, removing her kitchen gloves. The servant elf came out, stirring something white and creamy in a bowl with a whisk, with a look of steely concentration. Clearly she was in her element.

"Here, it's the tapioca pudding," she reported, handing the bowl over to Hawke. "The eggnog cheese cake is in the oven with the sausage-cranberry stuffing on deck."

"Great, take Merrill with you, she'll help out," Hawke said, gesturing over to the quivering Dalish elf. They both nodded and whisked themselves into the kitchen. Fenris watched the ordeal lethargically, though a sense of trepidation was brewing in his chest.

Hawke turned to him, she crazy look back. She held up the spoon to his lips. He glared. "I'm not your taste tester," he protested, dodging as she jabbed the spoon at him. Her eyes narrowed.

"Look, I need an outside party that hasn't had their taste buds killed by the scents."

"I don't see why I ca—_gaack!_" In midsentence, Hawke forced the spoon into his mouth, almost all the way down his uvula. He choked and spluttered, but reluctantly swallowed the pudding. She looked at him in anticipation. _A little bit more vanilla extract, _he thought without meaning too, _but no real complaints_. He remained stubbornly silent.

"Well, you're not throwing up, that's fine by me." Throwing the spoon back into the bowl, she ran off into the kitchen, only to return with _another _pudding bowl. Chocolate, this time. He still refused. "_Open your mouth!" _she barked.

"Hmm, weird, but I guess I've seen kinkier." Fenris instinctively looked over to the sound of the new voice. It was Isabela. Hawke forced the spoon through his lips when he wasn't looking. "_Ack!_" he choked out again, smacking his lips together. It was delicious, as chocolate was his favorite, but he still was silent

"Merrill and Orana are working in the kitchen, you can help them there," Hawke said absentmindedly, reaching for a slice of the gingerbread cake.

"Oh, but I want to see more of the kinky!" Isabela protested, but sighed and left anyway. Hawke looked at him expectantly. He shook his head.

"I refuse to put up with this," he griped. "Why can't I just help in the kitchen?"

"Because I still remember that poor chicken you burnt to a crisp," she retorted. The cake was held up in her hand. "Now are you going to be a good little boy?"

He clamped his teeth together. Her eyes flashed in a way that made him fear for his manhood.

With a blessing sent by the Maker, he heard the door open again, and Hawke looked up in distraction. "Oh, that must be Varric here for his polish," she mumbled, putting the cake down. She left for her room, leaving a tied up Fenris all alone.

Like she had predicted, the dwarf walked through to the elf's new founded prison, probably following his nose. His eyes widened when he saw Fenris, but then he grew cheeky. "Oh, so that's how you two want to play it?" Fenris growled.

"I am being held here against my will," he mumbled frantically, wondering whether or not the dwarf actually believed him. "D—do you have a knife or something?" He just continued smiling. The elf growled inwardly. Before long Hawke returned with a jar of polish, and tossed it over to the waiting Varric.

"If you want to help out, the others are in the kitchen," she said, gesturing mindlessly over to the closed door.

"Well, I guess I can pop in for a sample, just to see if you're doing it right." With a wink he left for the kitchen. Fenris gaped, then looked at Hawke defiantly, though Varric's comment seemed to sail right over her head as she lapped up a bit of icing on her finger. She held up the cake once more.

"Now say _ahhh_."

He shuddered.

The array of food never seemed to end. Just when he thought it was over, she threw out a fruitcake and hit him on the head with it. Eventually he just gave up, and his jaw began hanging open. He suddenly gained a lot more respect for the blood mage.

Christmas turkey. _It's fine_. Cranberry sauce. _Delicious_. How about the apple pie? _Nothing to complain about_. Buttermilk biscuits. Cheese bread. Beef tenderloin. _Gingerbreads _for Avo's sake.

It was all delicious.

Fenris felt like he was in a nightmare.

**~*O*~**

It felt like hours later, though it couldn't have been more than fifty minutes, when Hawke released him from his prison. He felt like an anchor had been dropped in his stomach, and he was pretty sure his face looked like a complete mess, but he was so disoriented that he hardly cared. Hawke gave him a large glass of ginger ale, which he happily accepted. The crazy light was leaving her eyes and she looked more like her light-hearted self.

"Well, now that all the cooking is done, all that's left is shopping and decorating," she reported. Then she gave a supportive tap on his shoulder. "Thanks for the help today; I get really crazy when it comes to cooking. You can blame my mother for that."

"Right..." was all he said. He didn't trust his mouth to be open for too long. The ginger ale was doing well to calm him down, but his sour feelings were still present. Hawke grinned, and escorted him to the door, even giving him a bag of ice.

"I'll make up for it, I promise," she said, opening the door. Night had fallen. "We can go out to lunch, perhaps. My treat."

"…whatever," Fenris mumbled, walking out onto the snowy ground. He didn't really process her comment, because he was too busy trying to a) not fall onto his face and b) not throw up his force-feed dinner. _Oh, I'm sure she would find that very attractive_, he thought wryly.

**~*O*~**

**Man, I want to be on Hawke's estate for Christmas dinner! Sounds delicious! Also, I finally got myself some Microsoft Points for **_**Mark of the Assassin **_**and **_**Legacy**_**. Couldn't afford Sebastian though, that bugger. Ah well, he sounded like a dink anyway. **

**Have a great Wednesday, ev'ryone~!**

**~DM-sama**


	22. Chapter 22: Sky

_**~*Sky*~**_

_Day, December 22, 2011_

_Mood: Light-headed _

_Dearest Diary,_

_Life is a mess. You'd think that as it got closer to the holidays, it'd all be easier, right? Well, maybe when you're a kid, anyway. All you have to do is eat the food and open the presents. Poor mother, only now do I truly understand her plight. Instead of holly-jolly, I get hellish and undermining. _

_After spending all of my day yesterday cooking up the food, (with much help from the others at least, especially dearest Fenris) I spend the entire night planning out what I was going to buy, or if I should decorate first, or yadda yadda._

_I decided to go shopping, and managed to round up everyone's presents with minimal costs. They're all really good; I'm tempted to share it with you. But no, I'll hold me tongue (or hand in this case), just in case those guys come snooping around my home, and uncover this diary. Although if that ever happened, the presents would be the least of my concerns. Isabela would laugh. Fenris would give me those _eyes _of his._

_Speaking of which, I couldn't find anything for that blasted elf. I thought walking around Hightown would give me ideas, but alas. Now here I am, Fenris-less without a present. _

_I keep wondering whether or not I should come out with my dreams to him. I've long since accepted them for what they are, and perhaps they actually mean something other than my starving sexual appetite. I really don't know; he might just call me a pervert and close the door. I mean, I'd be feeling weird if he had special dreams like that about me. I can't help but feel I should, though. It's like I've been carrying around a million tons every since this whole Fenris thing began. Once it's off, though, I know I can probably just float off into the sky. Decisions, decisions…_

_I figure I'd better get to wrapping. Fingers crossed there won't be any paper cuts!_

_~Hawke_

**~*O*~**

**Forgive me, my sweet Dragonlings, for creating so a short chapter for you! However, considering the day has been long, the word uninspiring, and my using a computer that doesn't have a space bar, I have every intention of making the next chapter very long, indeed, as the winter break has thus begun! Even still, I wanted to get out Hawke's thoughts of the holiday anyway. Also her predicament of getting sweet Fenris a gift. Oh, what to give, what to give. Cast some ideas, if you wish, I honestly haven't got anything! ^^**

**This might be the last diary entry, so say your farewells!**

**May you all have dreams of a White Christmas~!**

**~DM-sama**


	23. Chapter 23: Game

_**~*Game*~**_

"Aaaaand…_checkmate_," Hawke exclaimed. She triumphantly knocked over Fenris' king with her knight. "I win."

"You must be feeling so proud of yourself," the elf murmured. Hawke began glowing, and gave him thumbs up.

Seated on one of the plush chairs that faced each other, Hawke felt particularly cozy. It might have had something to do with the roaring fireplace, or the fact she actually felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. A big part of it had to do with the fact how festive the house had looked. Orana had been extra busy last night.

"I actually do feel pretty good about myself," she smiled, and began to pack the game away. "So, what do you want to play next? I've got a checker board, some card decks, even some dolls, if you want it." She could feel his glare on the back of her neck as she placed the game away. _Cleary, he doesn't like card games_, she mused.

"I didn't come over here to play with your…dolls, Hawke," he said, rising up to his feet.

"Oh, but I have a pretty purple dollhouse and everything," she persisted. He was silent. "Well, what _did _you come over here for?" she turned back towards him. "I thought you would have steered clear of my house for weeks after what I put you through with the dinner sampling. I still owe you a ton, by the by," she quickly added.

"Yes, you do. I still have nightmares about it," he said, chuckling. "Actually, I wanted to see if you were doing something with your time, rather than curling back up into a ball." Hawke frowned, remembering quite vividly how she had felt only a week ago.

"Is that just a fancy way of telling me you want to go on a date?" she questioned, skillfully changing the subject. Despite her intentions, Fenris actually smirked at her.

"Being a social recluse does get tiring after a few years," he said, crossing his arms. "And you're the only one here I don't feel like choking…anymore, at least." _Hmm, when did he become such a flirt? _she wondered, when another thought struck her. _Better yet, when did we both stop hating each other_?

"But I was so looking forward to kicking your arse in Parcheesi," she protested, particularly fond of the game.

"I never figured playing board games all day was an exciting prospect for you."

"Well, it's no Orlasian beach, but it works," she said, smiling fondly at the warm memory. Somewhere along that though process, a brilliant idea struck her out of the blue. "Hey, tell you what, I'm meeting the others out front tonight for a stroll around town. Why don't you join us? We'll get drunk, we'll party all night, and we'll probably wake up in bed together the next morning. A sort of pre-Christmas Eve celebration, I should say."

Fenris chuckled, and Hawke grinned slyly.

"Sounds great, I suppose."

"Fantastic. I'll see you tonight."

**~*O*~**

A few hours later, when dusk slowly made its arrival, Fenris began pacing around Hightown. He fitfully remembered a conversation he had with Hawke about a month ago as she complained loudly on the heat and dull of Kirkwall, and how she couldn't wait for the decorations and cold. She certainly painted a vivid picture, but the sight before him certainly was a wonder to the eyes.

Bright lights of varying, distinctive colors seemed to dance wildly around the city. Embedded in the snow were decorations, scattered about in the street, from toppling trees to the smallest of candy canes.. Cropping up here and there were cheery pictures of reindeer and snowmen and all the holiday icons alike. The mages even seemed to do their part, as everything seemed to glow incessantly, blindly Fenris if he looked to close. Nothing seemed to be _too_ splendorous

It was certainly different from the gloomy Imperium. But that didn't mean he liked it.

In the midst of his thinking, the elf almost missed it when something began slinking his way in the shadows. That is, he would have missed it had it not began to relentlessly '_pssst!_' him. He looked over in surprise, and was intrigued to see an under covered Isabela hiding in the shadows and staring right at him. She gestured wildly for him to come over. Blinking, he did.

"It's a good thing you came, we could use your help," she whispered. She began sneaking towards Hawke estate, expecting a confused Fenris to follow after her. Which he did, seeing as he didn't know what else to do. At the very corner of the district, he saw a few other entities also cowering in the shadows. It was the rest of the party, Merrill, Varric, Aveline, Anders, Isabela, and now Fenris. All of them looked like they were hiding from something.

"Looks like the whole gang is here," Varric said when the two neared. The elf eyed Aveline, who he was most surprised to see, and glared at Anders, whom he was most reluctant to be near.

"Guard-captain," he said respectively. "Curious on why you're here."

"Well, the Viscount decided I needed a good break for the holidays," she said, looking particularly uncomfortable. Then she laughed. "Almost had to through me out. I figured the best way to spend the holiday is getting on these guys better halves."

"Even Anders managed to get off," Isabela exclaimed, looking excited as she watched the street for passer-by's. The mage shrugged.

"They can do without me for one night," Anders said. "Besides, who am I to break our little tradition?"

"A good man, that's who," Isabela immediately replied. She turned to look at all the party members who actually knew what was going on. "Okay, the coast is clear. Now, when I give you the signal, we enter to point A, two at a time, and once the target has been breached, we all split up and search for the objectives. If anyone finds them, yell out and everyone diverge on point B. Hawke is certain to have moved them again this year, so it might take a while. Avoid enemies at _all cost_."

With every word that flew past her lips, Fenris began blinking faster and faster. Obviously, there weren't any plans for a night out with Hawke, which was disappointing enough, but _what _are these people thinking? Are they trying to steal from her? Are they insane? Well, that he already knew, but this was just a suicide mission.

"If I may be so bold to ask," Fenris spoke up, interrupting the exciting chatter going on around him. "What on earth are you planning to take from Hawke?"

"Oh, we're not taking anything," Merrill piped up. "We're just going to go try and find Hawke's presents. We do it every year."

"Doesn't that slightly defeat the purpose?" he asked, wondering just what Hawke got him in to this time. Isabela gave him a punch in the shoulder.

"You just haven't been here long enough," she explained. "I don't know why you decided to come out of your hole this year, but for once we have everyone here, and we cannot fail." Fenris gave her a look, the one he usually reserved for Hawke, which clearly stated how crazy he thought she was. "Look, do this one little thing for us, don't rat us out, and I'll help you pick out a present for your dearest."

Fenris backtracked like he was punched.

"What makes you think I need help?" _My dearest?_

"Because you tried to catch a pigeon, that's why." Fenris fell silent. "Just try to think of it like a game and you'll be fine." She turned to the main group. "For once we actually have the entire group, and this time I'm _sure _we'll find those presents! Now who's ready?"

**~*O*~**

As it turned out, Isabela's earlier plan for stealth was not necessary. None of the estate residents were home, not even the servant elf girl, so the first part of the plan was pulled off without a hitch. The front door wasn't even locked, which had Fenris severely suspicious. _She's not that forgetful_. Of course, he remembered the time when he found Hawke wandering the streets of Hightown as she tried to remember where her home was. Anything is possible with her.

"Okay, Varric and Merrill with head down to the basement and the Vault," Isabela said, looking flushed with pleasure. "Anders, Aveline, keep to the main floor, including the kitchens, living room, and all that." Fenris and me—" she made direct eye contact with him. "Head up to the upstairs, and make sure to pick apart Hawke's room—they're all probably in there. Okay? _Go_!"

The party split up in their designated groups. Isabela charged upstairs without a second thought, Fenris having to run to catch up, while everyone else disappeared.

"I'm sure we'll find them this year," Isabela murmured encouragingly as she began sifting through everything, though she retained from disturbing the room. Fenris blinked, and looked around the room, remembering his last visit here. It was relatively the same, though it lacked a huddled up Hawke on the bed. Deciding he might as well, he got to his knees and looked underneath the bed. _After all, where could she possibly hide them?_

As it turned out, the answer was absolutely nowhere. At least two hours passed with no sign of the presents anywhere. He was growing increasingly frustrated. The pirate girl, however, seemed stubbornly persistent. Pretty soon the whole room had been turned upside down in her mad search, and she ran off to the other rooms. He reluctantly followed.

"They _have _to be around here somewhere," she murmured, pulling out an underwear drawer and tossing out the contents. Rolling his eyes, Fenris turned and looked down the banister. Anders and Aveline looked like they were having no luck whatsoever, and he could confidently assume that Merrill and Varric could say the same. _If I were Hawke, where would I hide the presents?_

Well, he knew that she would want to torture them all by placing it somewhere stupidly simple, like under the tree, which it wasn't. _Maybe _in _the tree? _No, way too obvious, they would have been spotted by now. _Someplace convenient, where no one would think to look. _He delved into his memory, and tried to remember anything he had scanned over.

Suddenly, he thought of something. Abandoning Isabela in all of her glorious insanity, Fenris made his way back to Hawke's messy room. His eyes skimmed over the wreckage, until it landed on a small object in the corner.

Leaning in, he slowly picked up Hawke's purple dollhouse. _That devil…_

He emptied it. Out tumbled what he assumed were the rather small Christmas presents. He blinked in confusion, wondering if he had assumed correctly.

"Hey, everyone," he called out hesitantly, "I…_think _I found them."

Silence consumed the house as they absorbed his words, and suddenly a stampede trampled their way up to the room. Isabela was the first to arrive, and she nearly tackled the elf to get at the presents. Her face was alight as she grabbed the box tagged _Isabela_. The others did the same, though none of them seemed to mind how small the presents were.

Fenris noticed how there wasn't anything with his name on it.

But that might have been a blessing in disguise.

"Is this…a cracked mirror?" Aveline muttered after everyone tore off the wrapping paper. Silence consumed them once more. "It's…I threw this mirror out two days ago!"

"I seemed to be fortunate enough to receive an old Tiki charm," Varric said right after, shaking the funny wooden face. The feathers made it look ridiculous.

"Look at this, it's a Templar _keychain_," Anders exclaimed, more shocked than angry. "Does she _want _me to destroy her house?"

None of their reactions, though, held up to Isabela's infuriated explosion that sounded at the other end of the room. "_A box of condoms_?" she cried out, throwing the offensive present on the ground. "Is she _joking_? Years of searching and we get _this_?" Without another word she stormed out of the room, her hands clawing out her hair.

Merrill was the only one who was actually happy with her present, a silky bag of fresh soil. "Oh, I can make a whole batch of cookies with this," she wriggled in pleasure. "I wonder if I should just take this…is that bad?"

"I don't think she'll miss it too much," Fenris muttered.

**~*O*~**

Isabela was still grumbling angrily when they walked outside of Hawke Estate, leading a group of discouraged warriors out into the cold. By the time they reached the end of the block, Fenris paused. They others moved on without him, to wrapped up in their own troubles, to notice a lone figure standing in the snow. Fenris walked over.

"That was quite a stunt you pulled there," he said. Hawke, dressed in her usual red scarf and jacket, gave him a sly smirk.

"Ah, they'll get over it once they see their real presents," she amended. "Although I think I'll have to trade in Isabela's for something even shinier."

"So you knew all these years, I'm guessing."

"Of course, though my hiding place is far too superior to be found. It was a little trick my Dad pulled on me when I was a kid, though my siblings and I actually always _found _the real presents. One year he got smart about it, and made us think we were all getting sticks in mud for Christmas. We never tried it again."

Fenris had a hard time picturing Hawke as a child, much less sneaking around for presents, but he smiled nonetheless. "I couldn't help but notice you didn't leave a gag present for me," he pointed out. "Should I be concerned?"

"Well, if you're _so _eager," she murmured, and she pulled something up from her side. He hadn't noticed it before, much more intrigued by her moving lips, but it was clear to see in the moonlight.

It was two porcelain white birds. Both weren't connected to each other, and Hawke picked one up and held it out to him. "I found these in my basement the other night. My mother had an exact replica of them, and she and my father would always carry one of each around this time of year, back in Ferelden."

Fenris blinked, not entirely sure what to think of her gifts. "Why would they do that?"

"I don't know, to keep in touch with their holiday spirit," Hawke shrugged. "Just take one before I change my mind."

Smirking, he reached out and took one of the birds into his hands. It felt like glass, breakable and light. "Nice," he said, actually meaning it. Hawke smiled.

"I'll see you later, then," she said, and was gone.

**~*O~**

**And volia~ As promised, my extra long chapter, just for you guys. I actually have a space board this time, so that's a good start. Besides, I've been dying to write this chapter since the very beginning. Gosh, only eight chapters left. I'm sure you're all just dying to be rid of me and my story alerting anyway. Oh, woe's me.**

**Oh, about the two turtle doves, anyone who's seen Home Alone 2 knows what I'm on about. Mkay? Mkay.**

**A Very Merry Not-Christmas To You All~!**

**~DM-sama**


	24. Chapter 24: Secret

_**~*Secret*~**_

If he never saw another bit of folly again, it would be too soon.

"_Fenris_!" Hawke barked out. "Go and get some of the holly and mistletoes from the back room!"

It was too soon.

Groaning inwardly, Fenris rose up to his feet and did as he was asked. Sometime late last night, the sweet Hawke that had given him the white bird had vanished, only to be eaten by the holiday-crazed Hawke he saw before him. She had managed to drag the entire party back to her house, despite their late night, to finish decorating her estate. It was something to do with a holiday party, Fenris didn't catch it.

All he knew was that he felt like throwing up.

Eyeing the few boxes, he dug his way through them to uncover the requested item. He reentered the room. Hawke had them all running around like madmen, covering themselves with glitter and pine needles, making them so busy that none of them remembered to be cross with her for what happened last night. Only Isabela seemed to remember, and she wasn't on speaking terms with anyone.

The only other one who remained silent was Anders, and he looked thoughtful. Hawke seemed to ignore him completely as she walked over to the returning elf.

"I made sure not to rip them up, just for _you_," he said mockingly. She curled her lip and snatched at them.

"This is no time for your weird jokes," she snapped, and turned to go yell at some other unlucky soul. He shook his head, and sighed.

"Why does she get like this?" he murmured out loud. Anders, a few feet away, seemed to hear the comment.

"It's because of the holidays," he replied. "She always gets like this." The elf shot him a dark glare, one he seemed to reserve just for him.

"I don't remember asking you," he snapped, and made to turn away. Anders beat him to it, however, and walked over to him.

"No, but you asked it around me, and that counts," he said. "It's just that she gets neurotic when it comes to trying to be the best, and decorating is no exception. You know how she is with the cooking, I'm sure." There was no bile, no venom, and his tone was almost _friendly_. It had Fenris instantly suspicious.

"What do you want?" he bit out, crossing his arms.

"Nothing, I—" the mage paused in midsentence, and then sighed. "It's just…I couldn't help but notice that during last night's _raid_, I should say…you didn't get one of those gag presents."

"So, you actually knew about that?"

"Well, I figured she can't hate me _that_ much," he chuckled, but then quickly grew uncomfortable. "I also noticed that Hawke had clipped one of those white birds onto her belt loop. And I…wanted to know if she gave you the second one." Fenris blinked. _How does he know there's supposed to be two_? The bird seemed to grow heavier in his pocket, but he refrained from reaching for it.

"Yes, she did," he said, figuring lying would only prolong this awkward conversation. "Last night, actually." The mage seemed to deflate altogether at his words, and remained silent.

"Oh, I see then," was all he said. Then he suddenly walked away, and sat down on the stairwell. He looked thoughtful, and sad. Fenris rolled his eyes, but otherwise walked after him, hating himself as he did.

"Why exactly do you wish to know?" he asked him. The mage didn't answer him for a few seconds, staring blankly at the floor with his hands curling together. Finally, he spoke.

"She's made a decision, and I'm not part of it. That's all I need to know. You know of the nature of Hawke and I's relationship over the past few years, right?" he started cautiously, making eye contact with the elf. Eyes narrowed, Fenris nodded. He sighed. "She tried playing it off, saying we were always cut out to be _friends with benefits_. Even still…I thought I could change her mind."

"Is there a point to this tale?" Fenris interrupted, feeling his usual bad mood rising up to the surface. He felt an old sting in his chest that had been absent for a long time.

"If I may," Anders said crossly. "She came back a few times over the years, but she never seemed any closer, always talking about you and how much you give her a headache. I couldn't understand how she could even bear to be near you, after what you did. I still was hoping, of course." Fenris scoffed irritably, and Anders looked up in surprise.

"Do you think I'm surprised to hear she had another boy-toy hiding in the wings?" he snapped, lip curling. Yes, he could vividly remember that one morning weeks ago when he and Hawke had stormed off with poison in their hearts. The feeling was quickly returning, with a vengeance, when he recalled how much he had hated her at that moment. Anders, never being the smart one, had truly laughed.

"She's not _actually _a slut, you know."

Fenris blinked.

"What?"

"She hasn't been going around and sleeping with half of Kirkwall, is what I should say," Anders clarified, smirking quite brazenly. "Sure, there was the occasional comforting lover, namely myself, but that whole poppycock was grossly exaggerated, mostly for Isabela and her crazy imagination's sake." Anders smirked. "I think she was trying to get back at you, actually. It worked, at least." He began to laugh again. Fenris' eyes seemed to be trained onto the mage.

"And _how _exactly do you know this?"

"Well, I may not be her estranged lover, but I am her confident," he explained, looking oddly pleased with himself. "I guess I'd take that position over being her lover any day, considering how much Hell she's placed you through. You deserve it, of course." Standing up, Anders began to crack his knuckles, and walked towards the holiday ruckus of Hawke's house. "Guess I've been lolling around enough, best get back to work." He began to walk off.

"What does this have to do with those birds anyway?' Fenris asked suddenly. The bird seemed to weigh a million tons when Anders looked over to him.

"Oh, you know, the usual; friendship, soul mates, two halves of one whole, all that stuff." He smirked. "Try not to think about it too much, but from that look about you, I'm pretty sure you've fallen in love with her."

**~*O*~**

Fenris sat down the stairwell as he surveyed the Hawke's main entrance.

It was almost as if Saint Nick himself came and threw up all over the place. With the exception of the tree itself, everything had been decorated from head to toe in bright red and green folly and ornaments that shone with holiday cheer. The tree hadn't at all been decorated, in fact, but magically enchanted. It was a brilliant idea of Hawke's that took both Merrill and Anders combined to bring together. Magical, glowing orbs hung from the tree, and even the tree itself seemed to be more ghostly and mystical then when they had uncovered it in the forest.

The sweet Hawke that he knew had somehow made a miraculous recovery, and was currently standing beside him on the top floor, looking extraordinarily satisfied with herself. She was wearing her red scarf, something Fenris noticed. "Beautiful, isn't it? Half of Kirkwall is coming over for the party tomorrow, and I can only hope they don't mess it up too bad?"

Fenris nodded listlessly, his mind drawn into a completely separate location. He was smirking.

"It looks great," he murmured.

"So, are you going to be there for the party?" she asked, leaning closer to him.

"Maybe," he replied.

"It'll be lots of fun," she sang.

"I know."

"I won't even serve the tapioca pudding."

"Mmmm."

Smirking, Hawke leaned forward, and gently placed her lips next to his ear. "Just think, soon this'll all be over, and we can get back to our boring lives."

"Nothing's boring with you around," he was quick to say, leaning in to the scent of her hair. She chuckled.

"I'll see you under the mistletoe, elf." With the smallest of kisses, she pressed her lips against his cheek, and walked into her room. Fenris watched as she shut the door behind her. He smirked, and shook his head.

**~*O*~**

**Didn't I promise, like, seven chapter's ago I'd reveal Hawke's not-so-dirty little secret? No? Ah, here it is anyway. Great word choice, at least. And it looks like Fenris is becoming much less resolved against the issue of our dearest Hawke. And with only five more chapters to go! :D**

**May your day be filled with joy and light~!**

**~DM-sama**


	25. Chapter 25: Christmas

**_~*Christmas*~_**

On the night of Christmas Day, throughout all the land of Kirkwall, Hawke Estate seemed the place to be.

Or that what it sounded like. Upon entering the household, any average person would have been completely dazzled by the Christmas splendor that lightened the house to a sparkling cloud nine. If the lights didn't blind them, they would've gone deaf from the mindless chatter and chanting going on in the house. It seemed like half of Kirkwall had arrived, and these were just the early birds. The bulk of the horde was well on their way.

Hawke had, rather forcefully, assigned her party members as staff employee. She herself was a rather fabulous hostess, with her pretty eyes and out-of-place red scarf, seeming to be sweet-talking fifty people at once. It was rather fascinating to watch, actually, if one would pay attention. This was all a complete guess, though, as Fenris gloomily watched the kitchen door for any stragglers.

The party may be a complete romp to any average person, but for a haphephobic like him, it was an absolute nightmare. No, nightmares were more pleasant than this, since they normally involved one Hawke, or at least a way for him to wake up. Here, he had no way of escaping.

Hiding away in the kitchen for the last few hours, he had been growing increasingly edgy. Occasionally Merrill or Anders would come in for finger foods (they were caterers), or Varric for a drink, but his only other company was the elf servant Orana, who was far too busy to be minded by him. Tempting as it was, he refrained from messing with the dinner course, despite his angry stomach.

So there he was, starving and alone, drinking some recently brewed hot chocolate with exactly seven marshmallows. _Merry Christmas_, he thought somberly, remembering Hawke's words about Christmas a week earlier. The door suddenly opened up behind him, and Isabela appeared before him, huffing in frustration. She took a seat next to him.

"And a _Ho ho ho_ to you too," she bit out, her eyes narrowed. "You won't believe how many people have said that to me!" Fenris took the opportunity to sip some of his brew, licking at his lips from the excess chocolate. Isabela eyed it wistfully. "That actually looks pretty good. Hey, elfy! Can I get a bit of that?" she asked, waving down Orana.

Pretty soon she was warming her hands on a mug with cheerful reindeer dancing all around it, and took a deep swig. Sighing in content, she seemed to relax.

"You seem rather tense," Fenris noticed, figuring it safe to talk.

"Ah, it's just stress that comes with the holidays, and all," she murmured, "Partly because of Hawke too. I mean, of _all _the things she could have done…?" He chuckled at the memory of her furious outburst.

"You realize it was just a gag gift?"

"Oh, I figured after a while, but it's one of those things that changes your whole perspective," she breathed, swishing around her marshmallows. "I mean, if even Hawkethinks I'm a whore, that must really bad after all the…you know, whoring and stuff. I'm pretty sure she exaggerated _most _of it, considering what you guys have been going through, but I mean, come on."

Fenris remembered the conversation he had had yesterday with Anders, and remained thoughtfully silent, taking another deep drink of his mug.

"I really hope I manage to guilt her up this year, after all the trouble I went through to get her this _amazing _present." She shook her head in exasperation, and placed the cup to her lips, but seemed to change her mind. Suddenly, she eyed the elf. "So what did you get her?"

Fenris didn't say anything, instead swishing around the chocolate in his mouth. Isabela blinked, but didn't waver. Swallowing, he bowed his head, and sighed. He mumbled something she couldn't hear. "What was that?"

"I said I…couldn't…find anything for her," he said, looking particularly unhappy with himself. Isabela's expression became blank, and, in an act of pure frustration, Fenris raked his hand across his face. "I spent a good, solid seven hours wandering about in Hightown, but anything worth noticing was either too stupid or just…pale."

"So…you didn't get _anything _for her?" she gaped openly, like she had never before heard of such an act.

"I…I thought about getting her one of those pretty rings," he started, rubbing his neck. "Merrill mentioned them to me, that you give them to…someone special. But…it just seemed…" He trailed off, obviously uncomfortable with the subject.

_A ring? Like a diamond ring?_ Isabela blinked rapidly. Oh yes, she could quite vividly imagine Fenris getting down on his knee with a diamond ring clutched in his hand, and Hawke dying of a heart attack. _Whoa, to think he even _considered _it._ But that wasn't important.

"No, no, _no_," she cried out, curling her hands into fist. "This isn't how it's supposed to work! You two are supposed to give each other really romantic presents, and kiss under the mistletoe! This is—this is _not _according to plan!"

"Well, excuse me for not being part of your grand master plan," Fenris snapped, pounding the cheery mug down onto the table. He rose to leave a huffed up Isabela in his wake.

"Like I'm sure it was a part of your plan to have dreams about her every single night?" Isabela challenged, rising to her feet. Fenris paused. "Was it a part of your plan to squirm in pain at ever the thought of her being hurt? What about her oh so terrible curse?" Her lip curled. "Or how about the fact that you've fallen in love with her?"

"I haven't—" Fenris began to bark, his tattoos springing to life. He grew silent, though, and the two began glaring darkly at each other. Orana paused to watch the ordeal, eyes wide. "I…" he tried to continue, choking down his rage. "I need to go."

And he left.

Isabela crossed her arms, and puffed up angrily. "_Men_." She sat back down, rubbing her temples restlessly, and turned to Orana. "Some of that old Scotch down in the basement, please."

**~*O*~**

Hawke felt her arm almost fall out of her socket when she waved at the final party arriver of the night as he disappeared into darkness. _Please don't ever come back_, she thought cheerily as she closed the door. All that was left was the exchanging of gifts, and the big holiday feast, both of which she was looking forward too.

Her home was trashed. Kirkwallians were never known for their knack of cleanliness, but it was like they had focused all their skills this evening, and collaborated destroy her home. It would take a lot to clean it up, but something told her Orana would be on it like flies to honey. Despite her pleas, that elf girl jut remained stubbornly persistent. _She reminds me of someone_ Hawke thought, mind wandering to another particular elf.

Her friends were standing around in the main room, chatting pleasantly among themselves. They turned when she reentered, rubbing her good arm tightly. "There goes the last of the partiers," she said, trying to keep that smile in place.

"Oh, but the night is still young," Varric complained, shaking his head. Hawke shot him a look.

"Watch it dwarf."

"Does this mean we can open our presents now?" Merrill piped up. "I mean, unless we wait until the food is all gone. Is that it?"

"We've been over this, Merrill," Aveline said, looking like a whole different person without her uniform. Merrill blinked, and nodded.

Before Hawke could even think to respond to the earlier question, a loud crashing noise resounded from the kitchen, and Isabela came running out, looking rather drunk off her rocker. "If there'll be any opening of presents early, it'll be done by _me_," she exclaimed, and dived towards the Christmas tree. Ignoring Hawke's expression, the other party members dived in after her. Isabela emerged first, and was quick to unwrap it.

"Oh, I swear if it's another gag present, I'll—" the reproachful expression quickly melted away from her face when the wrapping paper completely fell away. Two beautiful, jewel encrusted daggers glowed up at her, seeming to shine a pretty golden glow. Her mouth flapped open wordlessly, before closing, and then opening again. Smiling, Hawke decided to make it easier and gave Isabela a hug.

"Merry Christmas, Isabela," she said, patting her on the shoulder. Isabela nodded listlessly, still staring in wonderment at her twin presents, like she had fallen deeply in love with them. The room was filled with the sounds of shredding wrapping paper, and excited murmuring. Hawke blinked.

Like a shadow Fenris hid under the mild darkness of the home's main archway. He looked sulky when Hawke approached him. "The one time you actually participate in our holiday, and you're still acting the social recluse. Unbelievable," she laughed.

"It's like you don't know me at all," he chuckled, eyeing the others and their present openings. Merrill's face was positively glowing when she unveiled a beautifully carved statuette. Hawke grinned.

"You know, elf," she said, casting him a sly glance. "I couldn't help but notice your present isn't under the tree." He looked away, looking sulkier than ever.

"I didn't think you would expect one," he said. Hawke blinked, and then rolled her eyes.

"Well, I wasn't expecting gift wrap and a box, if that's what you meant," she said, loosening her red scarf and removing it from her neck. Immediately confused, he looked back over to her. She raised her eyes and gestured for him to look up, which he did.

"Wh—" His sentence was halted when the scarf was thrown around his ownneck, and suddenly Hawke pulled him forward. He felt her lips meet his own in a soft kiss, which he instinctively deepened. _Ah, _he thought dazedly. _Mistletoe._

"You look pretty good in that scarf," she whispered, trailing her fingers along his chest. "You should keep it, my gift to you." For perhaps the first time in months, Fenris actually smiled as he gazed down upon her.

"I still don't have anything for you," he said in undertones. The other party members remained oblivious as Fenris combed a gentle hand through her hair, and drew her close.

"Hmm, they're still a few minutes left on the clock," she murmured, and was quickly silenced by another kiss.

The Christmas dinner that night was amazing, and everyone was greedily reached for anything they could get their hands on. They all vigorously thanked Orana, the magician behind it all, like she had healed all of their sicknesses, before truly delving into the pure avarice.

Of course, they were all in a fantastically good mood, especially Isabela as she continuously examined her shiny new toys over and over again. The food was doing well to keep their good spirits, though it had much to do with Varric's eggnog.

They didn't even notice that they were eating a fresh batch of Merrill's homemade cookies, let alone wonder how Hawke and Fenris had mysteriously disappeared.

**~*O*~**

**I hope you guys realize how much my family is annoyed at me as I type this alone in my room, just for you guys on Christmas Day! It was a beautiful Christmas too, despite the horrible humidity outside. I got this lovely Mad Hatter's top hat, which very easily made my day. **

**May the countdown begin, only four chapters left. Just **_**how **_**much trouble can those two get in to in that short amount of time? He he he!**

**I want to thank everyone who's reviewed my story thus far. Even to the people who didn't, the fact that you've read along this far is what keeps me staying up late trying to spin these out. I thank you from the bottom of my heart!**

**And A Merry Christmas To All, And To All A Good Night~!**

**~DM-sama**


	26. Chapter 26: Dream

_**~*Dream*~**_

_When Fenris slowly felt himself awaken in the empty dream world, he felt unusually detached._

_Of course, feeling detached was almost a necessary requirement in a world of wandering souls. It wasn't just that though; even the feeling that came with the strange limbo he had found himself in the past few weeks, that feeling of total disorientation, was absent. _

_Rising to his feet, the elf boy looked around the cloudy clearing, eyes narrowed. Then, with a soft smile, he realized that the dream Hawke was missing. Being in a dream, it didn't concern him much, other than feeling a sense of loss by the change. He wondered, of course, if perhaps her dream self's disappearance had something to do with last night's…contents._

_His lips curled up in delight. Yes, it had particularly difficult that night to fall asleep that night, with a giggling Hawke by his side. Even long after she had fallen asleep, it is very tricky for one to fall asleep with a soft, naked girl curled up on top his chest._

_Fenris wasn't a romanticist, but even he knew that he had been floating upon cloud nine for quite some time before drifting off._

_And now here he was, stuck in a limbo, with no Hawke in sight. For some reason though, it was as if he could feel her somewhere close, like her subconscious was brushing his own. In a haze, he began to wander about, trying to locate his missing quandary. _If I were Hawke, _he thought_, and I was wandering in a dream, where would I go? _Memories of his last few dreams of her came forth, answering his own question, and silencing him. _

_And then, almost as if though he had rounded a corner, he saw something. It wasn't Hawke, but it caused him to jump back in surprise._

_A gargantuan structure, stretching in an endless direction every way he turned, stood mightily over top him. Almost like a crystallized wall, he could see through to the other side. It looked like it was standing between him and a mystifying purplish cloud that seemed to be flashing all sorts of colors before his eyes, blinding him. At the very foot of the mystical barrier, on her knees, was his missing girl, Hawke._

_Her head was hung low, and her fingers crossed as she stared deeply into the purple void. Her eyes were blank, and her lips were tight. He approached her without making a sound._

"_What is this place?" said a voice that wasn't his own. Hawke looked over to him with those damnable blue eyes of hers._

"_It's…I guess you can call it…a barrier," her voice resounded. "At least, that's what I've been calling it." Her eyes returned to the structure. Fenris blinked, wondering just where his dream has taken him this time. She lifted her hand, and hovered a few feet from the wall. "I used to be able through to see the other side, plain as day. But now…" All at once, her finger lightly touched tapped the surface, but it cracked back with a powerful sounding _snap!

_The marking on her right hand was glowing furiously bright, though she seemed to ignore it entirely. "The Fade is on the other side, you know. The world of dreams, and demons. The land of mages. As unreachable as the sky now." She bowed down her head again, her face sad. _

_Fenris rose up to his feet, and approached the wall. It was certainly intimidating, but he ignored his cautionary feelings when he reached out to grasp it. Unlike Hawke, however, rather than being violently warded off, his hand lightly met contact. It felt cool to the touch, like an iron gate. Clearly, he was not allowed entry, but he was not entirely repelled like Hawke had been._

"_Why not just shatter it?" he had asked, looking down to her. It annoyed him that she could look so troubled, especially after what had happened between them. It may have been only a dream, but it still annoyed him. "It feels just like glass."_

"_It's not that simple," she echoed, slowly rising to her feet. "I am cursed, simple as that. It is like with the spirit of Justice, my spirit has been tainted." Her voice trembled. "I am like a ghost, don't you see? I have been…banished." _

_Fenris thought long and hard on the matter, and while it may have only felt like a few minutes in the world of limbo, it was really hours and hours in the real world. Suddenly, Fenris snapped his head over to her._

"_Use my spirit, then."_

_Hawke blinked._

"Y_ou have no way of controlling the magic of the Fade," she patiently pointed it. "You'll just burn yourself out attempting it." All the while, he was vigorously shaking his head._

"_You can use _my _spirit in order to shatter the barrier," he said again. "I can channel my energy into your, and you can use however you can."_

_Hawke blinked again. Then she seemed to grow even sadder, which infuriated him even more. "I don't think it works like that, Fenris. Even if it did, I don't have a clue what it could mean for you—"_

_Without a word, he snatched up her hand, quite forcefully, held it up against the barrier. When it didn't instantly repel her, she grew deathly quiet. "It's just a dream anyway," he murmured, then irately added. "Just please stop looking so damn sad, will you?"_

_She remained quiet, looking at the crystal barrier with a sudden new resolve. Then, she nodded her head and closed her eyes. Her lips parted as she began to mutter incoherent words, all of which he couldn't catch. He was much more concerned, though, with the feeling that came with the muttering. A sort of twisting feeling that affected him even in the waking world, where he squirmed. _

_Suddenly, underneath his eyelids, a brilliant burst white light flashed before, nearly burning a hole in his eyes._

_With a loud snap, he woke up._

**~*O*~**

Hawke gazed around her room in a feeling of being in a trance. A confused state of mind seemed to cloud over her brain, not allowing her to think of the dream she had just snapped herself awake from. Blinking rapidly, she reached over to feel the brutal curse mark on her right wrist. Her breathing stopped.

Fenris had jolted up in her bed beside her, which she would have taken much more notice of if she hadn't been completely shocked into a silent trance. At first he looked entirely perplexed, as if wondered why he wasn't in his own bed, before his eyes landed on her. His expression instantly softened, though his eyes narrowed when Hawke turned to him, her mouth slightly agape.

Not much seemed to need be said between them, the memories of last night's dreaming slowly working its way through their brains. For some reason, it seemed to carry the same affect for both of them, as Hawke brought up her wounded arm for his examination. His eyes widened.

The curse mark was gone.

With a sucking gasp of air, Hawke tightened her fingers into a curled knot. With a flash, a bright light of fire appeared above her hands, illuminating her darkened room. It glowed for a few seconds longer, captivating the two lovers, before snuffing out entirely. Though weak, it caused Hawke's heart to start pounding painfully in her chest, a sentiment shared by Fenris.

"It's…gone…" she whispered, meaning more than the curse mark itself. She locked gazes with Fenris. "And…you…were there…"

They both began blinking rapidly.

Without a moment's hesitation, they both leaped off the bed, and began searching for their clothes.

**~*O*~**

"How long has this been going on?" Fenris grounded out, his hands clenching the wooden table. It splintered. A rather tired and haggard looking elf mage sat in the chair opposite of him, massaging her temple and groaning.

"I'm sorry, Fenris, I'm trying to think," Merrill murmured, eyes clenched in pain. "Varric said the eggnog was safe to drink." Fenris began growling. "Okay, okay…I think…maybe…two, three weeks?"

"Yeah, I think it was the night before that big fight you two had," Isabela moaned from the other end of the room, clutching a bag of ice to her head. Fenris remembered that night, having had the first in a long series of dreams relating to Hawke and her more interesting aspects. He had been so stressed and freaked out by the dream, he could barely stand to be in the presence of her. That fight was the result of such closeness. With a pang, he wondered if that dream had been her reason too.

"But this…experience you had last night," Anders spoke in the doorway. "I'm not entirely sure I've heard anything quite like it."

"What? Sex on Christmas night?" Isabela piped up, giving him the oddest of looks. Anders rolled his eyes.

"What _she _means is that…well, it sounds like you managed to completely destroy Hawke's barrier to the Fade," he said, his voice coated in both awe and complete puzzlement. In the very corner of the room, Hawke stood alone, staring in wonder at the fire cradled in her palm. It was stronger and brighter than before, but before long, it went out again. Even still, Hawke's expression was that of a child discovering something amazingly new.

"There's more to this," Fenris growled, looking restless. "I know that there is. Something happened just before the barrier shattered." Anders blinked, and her gaze became blank.

"When you allowed Hawke to use your own soul to break through it—"

"_I didn't know what was going to happen_," Fenris snarled.

"It doesn't mean the act wasn't committed," he snapped. "When you gave Hawke the ability to merge with your soul, _willingly_ I might add, your souls _connected _to each other. Your very essences had quite literally _touched_, and trust me, of all people, when I tell you that there is nothing more that can be said."

His heart jolted when he remembered the blindingly white light that had burnt clear through his retina. He turned his dark glare over to the mage.

"But what does this mean for her?" he asked in very low tones.

"The only other times this has ever happened is when an Abomination is created, two spirits joining together to form one." Anders began frowning, and looked over to Hawke. "Yet you both keep your own minds intact, or at least a good portion of it," he added when Hawke began flapping her hand about when it caught fire.

"I've heard about a ritual like this before," Merrill began speaking, her eyes squinting. Fenris snapped his head over to her. "In Dalish lore, a Keeper would travel into the World of Dreams, on the request of two lovers, and bind them together forever. It's kind of like marriage, just without any diamond rings and such. It's too bad, I like diamond rings, they're so shiny and—"

"_Merrill_," Fenris snapped, pointedly avoiding Isabela's stare.

"Ah, right, I'm rambling again. Anyway, the technique, _the Methalia_ I think, hadn't been performed in a very long time, the last having been during the Exalted Marches. Not many ever committed to it anyway even when they actually knew how to do it, so it was almost an obscure lost art. Not many missed it when it was gone."

"And why is that?" he asked, a feeling of trepidation worming its way into his heart.

"Oh, because that's what obscure means, it was very indistinct—"

"I _meant_," he hissed venomously, "why did no one ever perform it?"

"Oh," Merrill said, her face quickly darkening. "Well, it's because it's the ultimate commitment, you know. When two people's souls meet, even for the smallest second, there is nothing more intimate and deep that could ever be experienced." Her face grew a dreamy expression. "You will forever know that persons deepest secret, their dreams, their fears. You know what their feeling in their heart, no illusions, no lies, nothing standing between you and she."

"And…" he faltered, clutching at his chest. His heart seemed to have ceased beating. "Is there any way to _reverse _it?" Merrill was quick to shake her head. Fenris began to quiver with indiscreet rage, his tattoos glowing lightly.

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen," Isabela piped up. Though her expression was cheery, she seemed reluctant to approach him. "What could be possibly more romantic then being linked in the closest way possible to your dearest?" The room seemed to pause for a moment. Fenris blinked, and then slowly looked over to her.

"Romantic?" he asked, sounding incredulous. His voice was no louder than a whisper. "Is that what you think this is? One of you _romance _novels?" Isabela widened her eyes at his feral expression. He began snarling "We've had sex for _one _night for the first time in _over four years_. For _four_ _y__ears,_ we could barely stay in the same room together, let alone talk, or even _make eye contact_." His hand began to claw at his hair in sheer frustration, hiding his tortured expression from view. "And now, because I'm such a fool, I have _chained_ her to me in the most permanent way possible. I can't…" He trailed off, looking like he wanted to bang his head on the wall. "I can't do this to her…"

Isabela blinked rapidly, never expecting Fenris to take such a dive. _He's grown up a lot since the last time_, she thought. Steeling herself, she patted him on the shoulder. "Hey, she looks like she could be doing a lot worse, right?" She looked up, grinning, for a positive confirmation from Hawke.

Hawke, however, was distracted as she began to breathe a small gale of ice, giggling inanely as she did so. Isabela grimaced, and looked back down to the elf boy.

"Well, she's..._alive_, at least," she said, her smile strained. Fenris shot her a glare, and Isabela removed her hand in defeat. "Right…"

Silence swallowed the party whole, only broken by Hawke mumbling insane nothings. Then, without warning, Anders stepped forth, and stood boldly next to the elf.

"Look, no matter what you did," he said, frowning, "_nothing _could dampen what you've brought back into her life. She would have been a Tranquil, _any_ other mage would have been a Tranquil if they went what she's lived through. But you managed to break it; you managed to bring the Fade back into her world." His eyes narrowed, and he glared directly at Fenris when he spoke. "You can slap her in chains and throw her in the darkest dungeon in the world, in the middle of Hell, and she'd still be better off. Do you want to know why?" Anders lowered his voice. "It's because you gave her a sense of power back."

Against his will, Fenris' memory snapped back to that one night, where he had discovered Hawke alone and curled in her bed, retelling him her story of her complete helplessness when she was ten years old._ "I couldn't do anything…I couldn't fight, I couldn't use magic…"_ It tore him up when he remembered the broken, utterly destroyed look he had been forced to witness that one day in the Sundermount, soaked in those creature's blood. She had been crying...

"I thought so," Anders said when Fenris remained silent. Then, he walked out of the door, and vanished.

Hawke began to laugh when sparks began to fly from her palms. A few moments passed before Fenris rose to his feet, and approached the childish-looking mage before him. "It's very late, Hawke," he mumbled, too quietly for the others to hear. He seemed to have difficulty thinking. "Let's…get you back into bed."

Eyes dazed and half-delirious, Hawke slowly blinked and nodded. Without another word, Fenris swept her up into his arms, and left.

Merrill and Isabela silently watched him go.

**~*O*~**

**Whoa, that was a pretty intense chapter. For me, at least. **

**Poor Fenris, I always torture him, don't I? Out of the frying pan and into the fryer, I say! Huzzah! We fixed Hawke's magical abilities, only to have Fenris bonded to her in a way that irreversible and forever life altering and traumatizing! W00T!**

**Hmm, Fanfiction doesn't view the next day starting until **_**3:00**_ **o'clock in the morning. I can use this to my advantage…**

**To Be Continued~**

**~DM-sama**


	27. Chapter 27: Music

_**~*Music*~**_

Fenris felt his own impending doom comfortably residing on his shoulders.

Deep within the heart of Kirkwall, the elf warrior almost took to the air, his feet barely brushing the paved street. The many pedestrians were a mere obstacle, any one unlucky enough to cross him would find themselves brutally knocked to the ground without any warning. It hardly concerned him, of course, as he was far more focused at the task at hand.

_Hawke, would you stop moving?_ he cried out. All he could sense was a confusing array of euphoria and frivolity, which he assumed was what Hawke was feeling. Every time would reach out a sense of dizziness would overcome him, and he would stumble.

_Over here, I'm over here!_ An image of Lowtown flashed under his eyes, along with an inane giggle that resounded within his head. _C'mon Fenris, come and get me! _Her mental laughs vanished again, and he began to sway dangerously on his feet. Anders came up beside him.

"She's somewhere down in Lowtown, near the bazaar," said Fenris, rubbing his temple. "Get down there and try to talk some sense in to her, before she blows something else up." The mage, though he was breathing heavily, actually manage to break out a smile.

"Agreed," he said, before charging off in the opposite direction.

_Hawke, don't move,_ _Anders is coming to get you,_ he warned. A sense of exhilaration washed over him again, along with a clear message of disappointment.

_Oh, Fenris, why won't you come and get me yourself_?

**~*O*~**

When Anders slowly approached the Lowtown bazaar, he felt a dawning sense of trepidation growing in his stomach. Even the spirit of Justice could be sensed squirming inside of him as his host's eyes scanned through the crowd, looking for a familiar head of black hair. He didn't fear Hawke, even in her delirious state of mind, but it was a certain hair-raising feeling that one might experience if they were being stalked.

Suddenly, a few people gasped, and Anders head snapped over to a forming crowd of wander-bys. Forcing his way through, he stumbled upon his quandary, though not in the way he had hoped for.

In the midst of her reuniting with the Fade, Hawke had become…well, feverish. There wasn't one moment that the party was allowed to take their eyes off of her, for fear she might freeze herself into a block, or set the curtains aflame. Merrill had expressed full confidence that Hawke would fairly soon return to her original state, give or take a few days, but they couldn't let her leave the house at risk of drawing attention.

That set everyone at ease.

Until she escaped earlier that day.

"Look, mommy, she's throwing fire!" a small boy cried out. "She's throwing fire!"

Anders watched on, biting his lip, as an excited Hawke danced in the streets with small flames jumping all around her in a phantasmal array. _All I have to do, is get her over to Fenris_, he thought, steeling himself. Taking a step forward, hands held up cautiously, Hawke seemed to notice him immediately. The flames stopped dancing and she turned towards him, staring with wide, excited eyes.

"Hi, Anders!" she exclaimed joyously, like she had been dying to see him for hours.

"Hey there," he said casually, warily stepping forward. _She left her mages staff at the Estate; I can probably subdue her if she gets aggressive. _"Heh, you sure gave everyone a scare back at the house, you know?" She rocked on the balls of her feet, tongue in cheek, and seeming to mule over his words.

"Fenris sure didn't seem too upset," she pouted. "He doesn't ever seem to care about me at all." Anders blinked, taking another step forward. _She must really be out of it_.

"I'm sure he's worried sick about you," he continued. Before he could further the conversation, Hawke jumped up and held her hands over her head.

"Hey Anders!" she cried out. "Anders, I just learned this new trick! Fenris doesn't ever sleep too well, so I learned a spell to help him feel all drowsy!" Anders paused, a sense of unease overcoming him. He could quite clearly recall Hawke's favored spell of placing all her enemies into a deadlock coma. It was _always _a success.

"W—why don't we just go back to the house firs—"

"Watch! This is how it works," she sailed over his comment, and began to wave her arms about. _She doesn't even have a stave!_ he panicked. In a last ditch effort, Anders leaped forward in attempt to interrupt the spell, but too late, a dark cloud fell over him.

Hawke's joyous laugh was the last thing he could recall, before he painfully fell into the snowy ground.

**~*O*~**

Hawke felt fan-_bloody_-tastic.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop within the Old City Slums, her mind felt foggy, and pleasantly fuzzy. She herself felt no lighter than a feather. In all honestly, she couldn't even remember why she was so happy, but it must have been something to do with that snowy-haired elf that was deep within her thoughts and mind.

Sliding down the roof, Hawke closed her eyes and opened up her mind again, like she had done a million times that day. It was fairly enjoyable to feel the mind of the elf as he blindly reached out for her, asking her questions that she didn't understand at all. Then she would flash him pictures of random locations, trying to draw him closer to her without herself being caught. _It's a game, Fenris! You have to play a game with me, Fenris! Hehe!_

A few people that she felt something with would occasionally show up, all of which she didn't pay much mind. Like that blond haired man that she had placed to sleep; she could hardly even remember the encounter now. It was weird when she thought about it, like the memories were slipping away altogether, so she just ignored them entirely.

All at once, Hawke could feel the presence of the white haired man, and she slid herself off of the rooftops. Hiding behind an old barrel, she watched him approach, squirming in delight. She blinked in surprise, however, when she saw that he wasn't alone, like she planned, but was with a brunette. For some reason, an old sense of jealousy emerged when thoughts of the two people being together, swirled in her subconscious. She couldn't remember why.

The thoughts were eradicated when she looked back over to the elf, and feelings of ecstasy bubbled forth in her chest. Forgoing her plan, Hawke jumped up to her feet, and began soaring into the air.

Fenris noticed her a second before she was suddenly airborne, and then tackled him to the ground. He barely had enough reaction time until his back made contact with the ground, and the delirious Hawke was fiercely kissing him in the snow. _You found me, Fenris! You won! _he heard her cry out, though he barely retained it as she raked her hands eagerly through his hair.

Then, just when he felt like he was going to suffocate, Hawke leaped off of him and sprinted away from view. _Round Two! Come find me, come and find me! _He flipped onto his stomach, ignoring the dazzled look Isabela was shooting him and his bright red face.

"_Stop that mage!" _he cried out.

**~*O*~**

The Kirkwallian Winter Parade was a treasured festivity that had no fee, and was eligible to be watched by anyone who was willing to stand about and watch floats parade passed them. It certainly was eye candy, what with all the glitter and singing and the confetti. It, in fact, was such an eyesore, that nobody seemed to notice it when a girl with black hair leaped onto one of the structures.

Having exhausted every other area within Kirkwall, Fenris and his small party of two had managed to run their way through to the Hightown region, only to be stopped by a huge crowd of people blocking the way. Fenris snarled.

"_Of all the days_," he griped, shouldering his way pass into the mass. Anders and Isabela were just behind him, although they quickly lost sight of the elven warrior in the throng of various people. They looked at each other, and blinked.

Fenris quickly managed to reach the first line of people that stood directly beside the mighty parade. All at once his ears began shying away from the impossibly loud music that penetrated him. He tried reaching out to his other half, only to be met with a hazy cloud of jubilation. Suddenly his eyes snapped on to the float that was three hundred yards ahead of him.

It was a float that was shaped like a ballroom, a small orchestra on one side, and hired dancers on the other. Only the dancers weren't dancing.

Instead, it was his dark headed mage, circling in clear delight, as fire sparks and icicles shot out from her palm. The people laughed and clapped and cheered for her, clearly believing it to be an act. Fenris, even in the midst of his panicking, could realize that she truly looked beautiful in this moment of time. The feeling was squashed, however, when Fenris leaned over to take a running stance.

All at once, he leaped up, jumped onto the float, grabbed Hawke, fell onto the other side of the street, and landed painfully onto the payment. A few of the more intelligent folks of Kirkwall had stepped aside, while the others just ignored them completely.

Pinned underneath him, Hawke had her arms laced around his neck, and stared up at him with eyes that looked dazed, and very, very happy to see him. Suddenly, they began to fill with tears.

"It's all so beautiful, you know?" she whispered, tone soft. "I feel like I can finally hear the music again…it's like I can hear for the first time...I've never thought it could be so pretty..." Her voice trailed off.

Immediately, the panic and rage of the last few hours drained out of Fenris, and he breathed in relief. He dropped a lasting kiss on her hairline.

"It's time to go home, Hawke," he ordered, firmly. Without a second of hesitation, Hawke nodded, and closed her eyes as if she were falling asleep.

"Okay…"

**~*O*~  
>Ah, this chapter was a lot of fun to daydream about. Can't you imagine? Hawke running around, lost in her own brilliant happiness, all the while leading Fenris around by the noose? I think it's hil<strong>_**arious~**_

**May you all have a happy tomorrow~**

**~DM-sama **


	28. Chapter 28: Perseverance

_**~*Perseverance*~**_

"You ever have that moment where you just feel…_stuck_?"

"Stuck?"

"Yeah, stuck."

"Stuck on what, exactly?"

"Oh, I don't know. Just stuck on…_things_."

"I was once glued to your floor once, if that's what you mean by stuck. I don't think it is, though."

"You were glued to my floor? Where was I when this happened?"

"What are you thinking about, Hawke?"

"I'm not thinking about anything really. Or nothing worth mentioning, I should say."

"You're thinking about _some_thing."

"Whatever happened to me being an airtight airhead?"

"When have I _ever _said that?"

"You've never had to _say _it. I just got that vibe from you, you know? I'm very aura-sensitive."

"You have a real knack for changing the subject."

"And _you _have a real knack actually _falling _for it."

"Hawke."

"It's just that…ever since I first entered Kirkwall; I've always had a set goal in mind. Get into the city. Join some smugglers. Find some money. Defeat the Qunari. Kill the Arishok. Blah, blah, blah. It's been like that for the last seven years. When I defeated Meredith, though, it's like…"

"You're not quite sure what to do with yourself."

"Right…I've never really thought about it, maybe because I've been keeping us all busy with missions and whatnot. Lately though…I guess it's just been on my mind, what with all the blood mages, and traumatizing events, and the whole _irreversible bond _thing."

"What does this have to do with you being stuck? I assume you'd just move on and live your life. It's what you've been doing, hasn't it?"

"_Live my life_ is a very broad statement, Fenris. Even when I was a child, I was always on the move in order to keep out of reach from Templers and magi alike. I've never been without a destination in mind…I like having a map of where to go…"

"Sounds to me like you just don't know how to relax."

"What? I know very well how to relax! I'm _relaxing _right now, aren't I?"

"Mmm. Not the same thing."

"Would you rather I leave then? I'm sure Isabela would much more pleasant company!"

"I'm sure she'll also be very intrigued at your offer to be as _pleasant _as me, now wouldn't she?"

"Joke's on you, she's been trying to seduce me for years now!"

"Hawke, you need to understand; life isn't just a game where at every second you have some quest to complete. For once, you've been taking life one day at a time, and for once you actually have a chance to ask yourself what's best for you. Kirkwall doesn't need a champion anymore, Hawke, and you know longer have to bend to anyone's will."

"I see you've been reading Isabela's romance collections. Well done."

"I do my best."

"Maybe we should all move to Orlais, then? I hear they have the most _wonderful_ sense of fashion down there."

"Only if you beg me."

"Hmmm, I rather like the sound of that."

"Then I suggest we move on."

**~*O*~**

**RANDOM DIALOGUE EMULATOR NO JUTSU!**

**I always wondered what Hawke did with her life once all that mess in Kirkwall was over and done with. I really hope they bring her back in the next game. Dragon Age 3, what a glorious sight!**

**Also, you can imagine those two in any place setting, I didn't have any particular setting in mind, whether it be playing chess, or sleeping in bed together. Probably the later. I just needed to focus on my dialogue practice. It's been getting rather awkward of late.**

**See you all tomorrow~**

**~DM-sama**


	29. Chapter 29: Truth

_**~*Truth*~**_

"_Okay, okay, so how does it start?"_

"_I figured I'd start working from a more interesting angle."_

"_And by 'interesting', you mean as far away from the original story as possible?"_

"_You always did get my style, elf boy."_

Shivering, Hawke covered up as much of her body as she could with the tiny little blanket her captors have given her. Even for a youngling such as her, it was barely big enough to drape over her shoulders. Packed away in a tight cargo box, the scent of fish and greed hung thick in the air. When someone cracked open her crate, she didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.

Some strange man, saying something in a language she didn't know, reached down and pulled her out by her hair roots. She cried out, more from shock then real pain, and was violently shushed. Other children like her were being taken out of their storage, some much more forceful then her.

"To'ay's the big day, girly," the strange man guttered, his grip no looser on her hair. "Try and not to whine so much; buyers hate that."

"_You're making me a slave?"_

"_I'm not _making _you a slave. I'm merely interpreting your travels to Kirkwall. It surely sounded like a gruesome trip."_

"_Somehow I can't imagine Hawke as a slave, actually taking orders from someone."_

"_Quiet, Fenris!"_

The auction seemed to last hours, and the stage was slowly becoming emptier, until it was only her and another boy, an elf with jet black hair, on the stage. When the slaver finally hovered over her, calling out her starting price, she was bought and paid for over seventy-five sovereigns. The buyer was a middle-aged woman with an odd twist to her smile.

The chain to her shackles was given directly to the buyer, a precaution should she decide to escape, along with a key. Unlike the other masters, the woman freed her from her iron clad handcuffs. "You are now my property, and I upkeep things that belong to me." Hawke merely nodded, remembering to never speak in the presence of another person. _Slaves are meant to be seen, not heard, _said the salver-lord.

As she and her new master walked out of the dark tunnel that held the auction, she blithely listened to the final auction of the day, the small elf boy. When he was finally auctioned away, to someone with a name she couldn't catch, she cringed, and sent up a quick prayer for the elf boy.

"_Wow. Did you talk this over with Isabela?"_

"_Nope, came up with everything on my own. Genius, huh?"_

"_So says you. I always thought Fenris was born into slavery. You were born into it, weren't you?"_

"_You're asking me?"_

"_Oh, right…sorry."_

The woman who had bought her, a nobleman named Hadriana, always seemed to be forgetting her name. Instead of Hawke, it was always _pet_. After many a year being called 'girly' by the slavers, it was actually nice. Hadriana did as she said, and polished Hawke like a diamond. She fed her delicious food, had her sleep in the warmest of beds, and would be made to wear the prettiest of dresses.

Though the conditions were improved, Hawke felt blank, and dull. Every time her mistress threw together a party, Hawke would have her hair tied up so tight tears would leak from her eyes, and have to wear shoes that had heels longer then her wrist. It was almost has if she was a doll, something she realized, but didn't say anything about. Usually, once the party was over, she would go to bed without dinner.

It wasn't until years later that the beating starting.

"_Of course, there's always some poor girl being physically abused in these stories."_

"_I'm just trying to keep it realistic.__ From what I heard Hadriana wasn't the sweetest of peoples, was she?"_

"_No, she wasn't."_

"_I still don't appreciate my story-self being beaten!"_

"_You'll get over it."_

"_Shut up, elf boy."_

When Hawke began showing signs of magical abilities on the eve of her fifteenth birthday, Hadriana began to change. No longer was Hawke her doll to dress up and show off, but her trophy to buff and shine. The training was bone-ripping, and it more than once left the newly appointed apprentice crumbling in defeat onto her bed. She would reflect back onto her days as a product in the black market.

It may have been a miserable existence, but it wasn't too terrible. The eldest slave, a girl of seventeen years, was almost an older sister to her. Unlike Hadriana, she actually cared for the young girl. One day, though, her friend had vanished from the cargo crates. Even though she was only eight at the time, Hawke was well aware of the slavers policy. Anyone over eighteen years old was killed. It made her sad to think about the fate of her friend, but it was cheering to know that at some point someone actually cared about her.

There was another. That tiny elf boy from the stage. Not really a friend, so much as a charge. Hawke had taken him under her wing when he first arrived, the skinniest and most sickly of all the other boys and girls in that set. She also had a real soft spot for elves. Every night, when the slavers gave them tiny bits of fruit, she would sneak over and give him all her apples.

It _was_ a miserable existence, but back then, she enjoyed it when someone gave a damn about her as a person. And right now, she was sorely missing those days.

"_Oh, so _that's _why you like apples."_

"_N__ow I'm suddenly ill-equip to take care of myself. Is that it, dwarf?"_

"_Only trying to get you some sympathy points, here."_

"_Yeah, no one will be as forgiving by your attitude as I was. After all, they won't know how pretty you were."_

"…_fantastic…"_

A grown woman of twenty years, Hawke had well aware of the escape of the prized slave of Danarius. All of the slaves have heard about it, if not half of the Imperium. The Magisters were terrible at keeping secrets.

Hawke remembered seeing Fenris from time to time on her travels with Hadriana. _A small boy_, she thought to herself, _too complaisant_. She didn't register the tattoos much, not seeing how they were worth anyone's time. When she had heard about his escape, she was enraged. It had long since passed the point where she had begun to try and escape the clutches of her master. To learn that the favored pet of Danarius, an object of jealousy to many of the slaves in the Imperium, it set her teeth on edge.

It was during one fateful day when Hawke was silently waiting in the field behind her masters' mansion, as she always was. Her mistress came forth, without warning, and said to her, "I have an assignment for you." There was an odd twist to her smile. Hawke's lips parted.

Catch the escaped slave, she had said. Hawke needn't wonder who she was talking about. Catch him, and I will free you from your prison, she explained. Hawke needn't wonder what she had meant.

All she needed to know was that she had discovered a way to dispatch one of those most despised men to the slaves, and a way to retrieve her fantasized freedom.

"_So now she's my personal hunter? She wouldn't do that."_

"_Are you kidding me? I'd kill you out for a Klondike bar."_

"_Shut up, Hawke."_

Years passed without any sign of the escaped slave. Hawke had free reign to do whatever she wished, to sleep wherever she wanted, all on the coin Hadriana had given her. Her objective never faded from her mind. The leash was still tight around her throat. She spent all of her energy tracking him down.

When she finally found a lead, her heart nearly busted opened in excitement.

It was during a cold, wintery night in the Free Marches. After years of hiding in the shadows she had grown a natural affinity for staying unnoticed. Even her skin had grown deathly pale, and her eyes seemed to glow in the black of night. It helped to spot a white head of hair in the darkness of Kirkwall Lowtown.

So enthralled to find her target after years of searching, she didn't notice it when she walked right into his trap.

Silently stalking him on the edges of the shadows, she licked her lips when he took an abrupt turn into an ally. _What a fool_, she thought to herself as she followed after.

When she reached the end of the alleyway, he wasn't there.

She blinked.

In a flash of light, Hawke suddenly founded herself thrown against the brick wall, and facing her target. One hand was nearly choking her, while the other was quite literally inside her chest. Her heart felt constricted as she gazed in fear at the hardened elf slave before her.

"_Oh, how romantic!"_

"_I find my story-self about to kill you in cold-blood very poetic, as well."_

"_Quiet, you. It's just that now you can't at all remember me taking care of you as a small kid in the slave compound because of the memory wipe. I think it's very lyrical."_

"_Thanks Hawke, I spun that in just for you."_

"I often make a point not to kill women or children," the slave said, his eye burning bright. "And now I'm about to break both of my rules." Hawke bristled.

"I'm hardly a child," she hissed. "I've seen and been through more than most of the bloody men in the Free Marches."

"With the way you were blundering after me, I'd say otherwise."

"Don't flatter yourself."

His ghostly hand seemed to clench tighter around her heart. "Who sent you?" he asked.

"My mistress promised me freedom as long as I capture _you_," Hawke spat. Without warning, the slave backtracked and withdrew his hand from her chest. She crumbled to the ground, trembling in fright and revulsion.

"You're a slave," he said, looking down at her. He looked disgusted.

"Slave…apprentice…_doll_," she murmured, rising to her feet. She patted away the dust from her person. "I don't care what you call me. All I know is that all those titles, all those _brand marks_ go away when _you're _safely back in Danarius' lap. And trust me when I say I'd give up a lot more than _you_ for that to happen."

The slave remained quiet, seeming to survey her with his glittering eyes. Then he let out a cruel laugh. "You honestly think she'd let you go away scot free?" Hawke blinked, lips parted. "If anything she would have promised to give you to Danarius as a present. With my capture, you'd just be walking into another prison."

"You don't know who she is," Hawke snapped, voice quavering.

"Oh, I know," he said stoically. "I know who she is. And I know who _you _are, Hawke. A mage, a slave, a Ferelden, all that. I also know that your mistress is perhaps one of the cruelest slave lords in all of the Imperium. I highly doubt she would change that for you."

Hawke opened her mouth to spit venom at him, when she realized she had nothing to say. Her mind was blank.

"I won't kill you," he said, already walking away from her. "I owe you that much. Just know I won't be so forgiving next time." He was already a shadow in the distance.

"Wait!" she cried out, her heart pounding in fear. "W—what do…I do now?"

He looked back over to her defeated form, and seemed to be smiling.

"Just start running."

"_I think this version of events better than me just stumbling along an empty box. It's a lot more fun."_

"_I like how in each version, you always seem to fall for my traps."_

"_Don't get any ideas, elf boy. So Varric, I was wondering, can we change it up just a little bit? Instead of him just _catching _me, can there be this huge fight?"_

"_I don't see why not."_

"_You're both insane_."

**~*O*~**

**Apologies this is so late, but I was absolutely stumped on what to do with this word. Trust me, you'll be glad I actually slept last night and came up with this idea in the morning. **_**Much **_**better than my last one.**

**Well, expect the final chapter later tonight. I can't wait till this is over, honestly, I've never been met with a more convoluted plot then this god-awful 'collection' thing. Just imagine what it'll be like when I have **_**more **_**than six hours o think up a plot! :D**

**See you in a couple hours, sweet spirits~**

**~DM-sama**


	30. Chapter 30: Future

_**~*Future*~**_

The box was _empty_.

Everything about this simple sentence was extraordinarily suspicious, and in the few seconds from the filthy room to the crumby door, it gnawed away at Hawke's mind. _Anso made such a big deal for an empty box? What gives? _The few thugs she had run into along the way didn't put up much of a fight, actually seeming surprised by her arrival.

It had _trap_ written all over it, and when she emerged outside, it didn't overly surprise her to see Slavers babbling on about some elf. Drawing her stave and sending off her party into battle, Hawke felt annoyed. When the trap-mongers lay dead at her feet, she crinkled her nose.

"An empty box, a bunch of slavers waiting about," she recited, turning to her party. "This can only mean one thing; something's definitely up."

"As observant as ever, Hawke," said Varric. Hawke tipped her invisible hat at him, and headed over for the Alienage exit.

"Let's go and find that Anso dwarf," she decided. "He might have something t—"

"Oi, you lot!" Hawke looked up at the new voice. A stressed out, middle-aged man stood at the foot of the staircase, looking down on them like they were lepers. "Where's the elf?"

"Well, the term _elf _is rather objective," Hawke murmured, gesturing to the Alienage around her. "There's a bit of a need for specifics if you want my help." Instead of giving her a cold glare, like all the other victims of her jokes, the man seemed enraged.

"_Lieutenant_," he barked out, and Hawke readied for another battle. The man shouted a few more words that she didn't catch, but the next thing she knew, a dead man appeared at the top of the stairs. The man spun on his heel, just when a snowy-haired man entered the scene, his hand bloodied.

_Why, hello there_, she thought, much more intrigued by the night's events.

**~*O*~**

"So, it's just another night fighting bad guys and killing…abominations," she muttered on the foot of the manor's steps. She looked over to her latest acquisition, the mysterious man named Fenris. "I knew you'd be fun to have around." Though his lips curled, he looked anything but amused. He graced her with a mock bow.

"I'm happy to entertain you," he said. "But if Danarius has already fled, that's my qué to disappear. I appreciate your…assistance." He glared darkly at the staff cradled in her hand, and Hawke's lips twitched. _Oh, so he's one of _those _elves_.

"Why're you quick to leave me?" she questioned, furrowing a brow. "I thought we were hitting it off splendidly."

Fenris blinked, and then he actually smirked. "I apologize if I seemed in anyway interested. Trust me, it is not the case." Hawke heard Isabela snort behind her, but, instead of offended, her grin only grew wider.

"Oh, so now it's hard to get, is it?" she murmured, shrugging. "You know, denial isn't only a river in Egypt." The elf rolled his eyes, and suddenly made to leave.

"I've been waiting too long, I must go," he said, and then tip a hand to her. "I wish you the best."

"Wait, wait, wait," she protested, sliding up in front of him. He stopped, and sent her another dark look. "Why bother jump back out into the world like that? All cold and alone. This Danarius guy obviously knows you're here, and if he's placed this much effort into you already, it can't be too long until he comes snooping around."

The elf was silent.

"C'mon, I already said, you're fun to hang around with, and I need another able warrior by my side."

This time he crossed his arms, his expression as hard as ever. His eyes, though, seemed to be a little bit softer.

"I promise I won't make a pass at you anymore?"

He smirked.

**~*O*~**

_Who would have thought_? Hawke thought, breathing down her beer.

"So he really just walked out on you?" Isabela asked, somehow managing to look both amused and concerned. Hawke swallowed painfully, and nodded.

"I feel like I just lost a bet," she murmured, tracing the rim of the cup. The pirate coughed conspicuously, and suddenly began drinking. Hawke _might _have been more annoyed, if she wasn't already feeling so buzzed.

"Oh, don't even worry about it," said Isabela a few minutes later. "He likes you. I can tell. It's just too much too fast, you know? I'm _sure _he'll come around." The soon-to-be Champion of Kirkwall chuckled forlornly, raising the glass to her lips.

"It took the stubborn fool three years too walk the fifty yards to my house," she said. "How long do you think it'll take him to apologize?"

Isabela was silent as Hawke slapped down her drink and rose to her feet. "I'm going to go see if Anders is back."

**~*O*~**

Hawke watched with narrowed eyes as the much feared Magister Danarius made his way down the stairwell. He looked positively smug. _Somehow I am not surprised_. Fenris didn't seem overly shocked either. Just enraged.

"Well, well, it's nice to see my property undamaged and safely returned to me," the magister said. He was looking directly at Hawke as he spoke, and as he did, Fenris seemed to be buzzing with energy. "I'd love to sit down for a drink, but it is perhaps _every_one's best interest that we return home."

"You _slime—_" Fenris began growling viciously, and took a step forth. Hawke grabbed his arm cautiously.

"Wait a second," she murmured, looking back and forth from mage to slave. "This _is _a trap, right?" Fenris turned to her, his eyes burning. Danarius laughed.

"What company you keep!" he chortled as she narrowed her eyes. "Yes, my dear, although _trap _is such a strong word."

"That isn't what I meant," she bit out. "What I _mean _is, is that…you were aware that Fenris was residing in your manor, right?"

"Of course I did," the mage bragged. "I've known ever since he first arrived in this wretched place."

"So, for six years you've known his whereabouts, his company and all that?"

"_Hawke_," Fenris growled at her.

"Gimme a minute," she murmured. "Let me just get this straight; you decide to wait six years, to launch a trap in perhaps the most pointless way possible, in this dinky pub, where you _must _have known Fenris was going to put up a fight in, which would have resulted in a lot of unnecessary attention and fines and lawsuits and all that?"

Danarius was silent, and his seemingly good humor was melting away.

"And meanwhile," Hawke continued. "This entire time he was squatting in a house that _you have the key to_, practically praying for you to show up, and in which he had no way of defending himself should you all decide to sneak in when he was out with my group, and knocking him out cold when he came home alone in the middle of the night?"

Now he was angry with her.

"I'm just saying," said Hawke, pulling out her staff.

**~*O*~**

"So, we've fought blood mages, Qunari, demons, slavers, bandits, raiders," said the elf boy, walking by her side.

"Quite the adventurous life, I should say," said she, smirking.

"Anything following after that sure must sound dull," he continued. Hawke laughed.

"I don't know, taking care of Isabela while she's good and drunk sure sounds like an interesting prospect."

"I've already done that; not pleasant."

"Well, there's a bunch of other _normal _adventures I still haven't done yet. Y'know, marriage, childbirth, all that."

"Marriage? Isn't it a little soon to be thinking about that?"

"Hey, I'm not even thirty."

"That's not what I meant."

Hawke began smiling, looking up at the elf boy. Sure, she may have tackled a High Dragon, but she would easily say he had been the most interesting aspect of anything she's experience. He smiled back.

"The future…now _that's _an interesting prospect."

"Can't wait."


	31. Author's Thoughts

**Well, that's the end of that.**

**In all honesty, I was **_**never **_**expecting this ficlet to get the reaction that it did. I mean 13,000 views? 50+ reviews? That **_**way **_**passed my expectations. Of course, now that it no longer has a spot on the top of the Fenris/Hawke ficlet library, it'll probably vanish into the black hole of the archive along with all the other _collections _of Fenris and Hawke. Not a terrible thought I suppose, since half of the chapters I completed at three in the morning, but it certainly sobers me. **

**I hope to return to the Fenris/Hawke fanbase soon. This collection's whole purpose was basically a brain dump, I wanted to become immersed with the character's to a degree before I do anything major, and to cast out some ideas that I might want to reflect on later. I know I still have a ways of a way to go with them, though. Especially Aveline, I think she only had three lines in this whole thing. **

**It was a personal challenge I accepted, and I'm glad I saw it through to the end. To all the people who left their thoughts, or even just clicked on my link, you guys rock. Thanks for having patience with me; I'm well aware how convoluted and jumbled up the 'plot' was, and the fact you still wanted to keep reading it, that makes me happy. After all, what'll I come up with when I can work at my own leisure? It sounds amazing.**

**I hope to see you all again on another story. That is if Skyward Sword doesn't completely suck me into its little world… Damn Ghirahim, what shall I do with you?**

**Have a Happy New Years Eve, my sweet Dragonlings~**

**~DM-sama**


	32. Notification

_**Saturday, September 29, 2012 **_

_**Author's Note:**_

Well, hello there, my little dragonlings~! It's great seeing everybody again! :D

If any of you actually happened to miss a month's worth of my erratic updates that contained the most convoluted set of stories ever to grace the Fanfiction archives, well, you're in luck.

Stay tuned for the next installment of my FenrisxF!Hawke collection, _**A Moment's Hesitation**_, scheduled to appear on **Monday,** **Oct. 1****st****.**

See you then~

~DM-sama


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